


I’ll Be Waiting (For Your Never-Ending Wave)

by CattyJay



Series: The Coastal Kids [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6568708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CattyJay/pseuds/CattyJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was meant to be a summer spent with friends, taking trips to Santa Monica, and lazy afternoons by Clarke’s pool. It was supposed to be easy and fun and freeing. The best three months of Raven’s life.  But being in love with your best friend can really screw up a girl’s plans.</p><p>Or the one where Raven’s in love, and Octavia really shouldn’t be.</p><p>(A continuation of You Came Home For The Endless Summer or the Pool Boy AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second instalment to my series, The Coastal Kids – the first being a Clarke/Lexa story. I strongly advise you read that first as this is a direct continuation and shows insight into the beginnings of the Octavia/Raven relationship, as well as the dynamic they share with the other characters.

Raven Reyes was certain of three things in her life.

One, that Clarke Griffin was her soulmate. 

And not in the classical sense of the word. There wasn’t going to be any wedding bells, or a mouth full of romantic forevers in their future. And if there were it would be as each other’s best man, and watching on as they married those who they were both destined for.

It was part of the reason why Raven wasn’t all that surprised by the invitation to meet Lexa’s family; Clarke had never been good at meeting the family. Not that she did all that often. So Raven knew this wouldn’t have been any different.

And free beer wasn’t ever something she would refuse willingly.

So if soulmate tattoos indeed existed, theirs would read _“nice shot, asshole”_ and _“it was actually, your head was just in the way”_.

They were 12, and had been best friends every since.

Two, that she would one day achieve a great feat in mechanical engineering.

Ever since she was a kid, helping her dad fix up his old Chevy, and getting grease under her fingernails – the only good memories she had of him – she’d dreamt of something bigger. Bigger than her. Bigger than the cars she found herself in daily at the garage where she worked. It was her dream, and she would work her ass off to get there.

And three, that long legs and that smile were going to be the death of her. That the scent of body wash, and the gentle pull of perfume would destroy her. That the thumping in her chest at every soft touch and sigh would consume her entirely. That she was in love with Octavia Blake.

The same Octavia Blake that sat next to her on the long white couch, her eyes on her phone and her lips pressed together in a gentle smile.

Raven was thumbing lazily through her Tumblr feed, keeping her eyes on the small screen. It wasn’t all that riveting, old muscle cars and the occasional meme, mixed in with a few fandom blogs. It was a distraction, something to preoccupy her hands and her mind, to keep them from wandering elsewhere – it didn’t work.

As she closed out of the app, her eyes strayed to impossibly short shorts. She tried not to stare, she did. But as Octavia lifted one of her legs to cross them, Raven found her phone slipping through her fingertips. 

It jolted her out of her daze, Raven picking it back up to find Clarke staring at her. 

Her best friend raised her eyebrows in amusement, mouthing a silent and teasing _stop_. Raven merely rolled her eyes back in response. Clarke was one to talk. The way she looked at Lexa made what she was doing feel like Sunday school. 

But Raven had felt those eyes on her since she’d arrived with Octavia 30 minutes ago. She could always sense them. Whenever Clarke wanted to say something, or had picked up on one of her moods, she got this look and it drove Raven insane just how easily she could read her.

Octavia sat up suddenly, placing her phone on the coffee table. “I have to pee, be right back.”

She jumped up from the couch, taking to the stairs. Raven watched her disappear around the bend, hearing the dull click of the second floor bathroom door. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

And there it was. 

Raven shook her head. “It sucks, but I’m dealing with it.”

_As I do everything._

She hoped that her tone conveyed the right amount of _stop talking_ – it didn’t. 

“You shouldn’t have to, Raven,” Clarke replied gently, leaning forward, her Instagram feed long forgotten. 

“Yeah, I do,” Raven smiled sadly. “She has Lincoln now. It’s better if I just let it go, for both our sakes.” 

She wasn’t convinced she could bury these feelings. Not in the slightest. Her fingertips burned and her skin tingled at just the thought of Octavia. She knew her feelings weren’t going anywhere. It was just one of those certain things. 

“Are you sure about that?” 

_No._

But Raven nodded reluctantly, her eyes glassy. She just wanted this conversation to be over. “Otherwise it’ll just be too hard to be around her.” 

Again, they were just words. She wasn’t sure if they were to placate her friend or herself. They weren’t convincing either way.

“As if it isn’t already?” Clarke provided.

Raven knew she was right. It was hard. It had been hard for four months, ever since she’d met Lincoln. But it had been manageable. She didn’t know why today was different. Why today seemed just that much harder than the rest.

Raven could see that Clarke wanted to say more, but Octavia used that moment to come back from the bathroom, her footsteps being heard from down the hall. 

“What are we talking about, losers?” 

“You,” Clarke supplied with a practiced ease. 

Octavia grinned at that and plopped down in Raven’s lap, even though there was endless amount of couch available. And that’s what made it so hard, Octavia being so affectionate. And it killed Raven. And maybe that’s why today was a little harder. Ever since she picked her up at her apartment, Octavia had been playful and close, and it had sent her reeling. 

But Raven smiled at her all the same, Octavia leaning in and whispering lightly in her ear – it gave her chills.

“So I was thinking-”

“That’s never a good start,” Raven quipped.

“Shut up.”

Raven just chuckled, her fingers playing absently with Octavia's loose top.

“As I was _saying,_ I think you should come over. Lincoln and Bell are having some wank bullshit with his frat brothers next week,” she explained, hopeful. “Keep me company?”

Raven was about to respond when a loud revving of an engine broke through their haze. She could hear it clearly through the open bay windows, the rev following a sharp backfire of an exhaust.

“That’s not?” Octavia began, sitting up suddenly in Raven’s lap. Raven ignored how the movement made heat pull low in her stomach, her hands instinctively coming to rest on Octavia's hips.

“I think it is,” Raven confirmed, her eyes darting to Clarke.

The three of them got to their feet, heading for the front door. Sure enough Lexa was waiting at the end of the paved driveway, straddling an all black motorbike. She’d parked it on the curb in front of Clarke’s letterbox, pulling off her helmet to greet them.

Raven and Octavia didn’t wait for Clarke to lock up, before starting to climb the short drive.

“Unbelievable,” Raven muttered.

“Could your girlfriend be any more of a bad girl cliché?” Octavia murmured to Clarke, Raven fighting off her grin. “Next thing you’ll tell us is she moonlights as a MMA fighter, or does kickboxing on her days off. Getting all broken and bruised just so you can patch her up.”

“She surfs, actually,” Clarke countered. “And she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yet,” Raven quipped, earning her a glare.

Clarke wandered off to greet Lexa, leaving the two of them to climb into Raven’s Jeep. She watched the pair from the front seat, pulling on her seatbelt as Octavia hopped in the passenger side. It was gross how happy they looked, Raven’s stomach twisting. They were all shy smiles and flirting. It had Raven craving what her best friend had. She wanted that feeling, the longing, that excitement and anticipation.

“That bike is _so_ sexy.”

Raven glanced at Octavia as the words fell from her lips. It only succeeded in providing images of Octavia on that bike, all worn leather and ripped denim.

_Yeah, that’s not helping._

Raven turned her attention back to Clarke – before those thoughts could gain any traction – and watched her pull on a leather jacket that Lexa had just handed her. Those blue eyes were on the two of them as she murmured something, shifting her hair out of the way of the collar.

Lexa was smiling softly as she straddled her bike, Octavia narrowing her gaze at them both. But Raven just sent Clarke that knowing look, the one they’d shared since middle school. The one that said _I know where your mind is and I approve completely._ It was truly a practiced art.

Those eyes were still on Octavia and Raven when Lexa suddenly pulled at her hips, Clarke stumbling a little before she could right herself.

“Okay, we need to stage an intervention, or we’ll be here all night,” Octavia muttered. 

Raven smirked and slammed her hand down on her horn. It worked. Clarke groaned, her head falling back as she flipped them off. Raven chuckled, Octavia laughing with her. But Lexa appeared to ignore them both and the incessant honking that Octavia was now helping with, as she dipped her head to place a kiss on Clarke’s exposed neck. 

“Not her girlfriend my ass,” Octavia shook her head, taking her hand away from the steering wheel.

“They’re totally fucking tonight.”

* * *

They pulled up to a mid-size two-storey home, the surrounding street resembling a parking lot with the amount of cars that were lining the cracked sidewalks. It was all white timber and light blue trim touching the awnings and the sills. It was beautiful. There was still an ocean breeze, it whipping their hair as Raven and Octavia stepped out of the Jeep, Gustus’ neighbourhood further up the coastline from Newport.

His house wasn’t all that far from where Raven grew up. She remembered the streets, driving down them like muscle memory, remembering all the sleepovers with Clarke and the times she’d run away from home in grade school. She’d moved closer to Newport for junior year, after her folks split and she went to live with her aunt. But the memories were still there, Raven’s leg aching a little at the stray thoughts.

“You okay?”

Raven turned to see Octavia looking at her with concern etched on her slight features, the pair making their way up the small garden path behind Clarke and Lexa. 

“Is it your leg?” 

“Just phantom aches, it’s nothing,” Raven smiled, pulling her hand away from her leg brace and continuing up the path. Octavia merely nodded, keeping pace beside her. 

Countless surfboards and skate gear were lined up against the side gate and underneath the house; Raven looking on in awe until her eyes hit what was parked in the open carport. 

The shell of the old muscle car sat mid-rebuild, parts of the engine laid out on the pavement. Raven ran her fingers over the tarnished black paint, taking in the machine and imagining it in its former glory. She helped rebuild many like it at the garage where she worked, old Mustangs and Dodge Chargers. She’d wanted one of her own, ever since she was a kid and her dad had wheeled in the Chevy late one night. 

“Again. Either you lock that down, or I’m moving in,” Raven whispered to Clarke, her eyes still on the car. 

“Get your own,” Clarke retorted in a hushed tone, her gaze flicking to Octavia who was now a step behind them. 

Raven’s stomach flipped. “Low blow, Griffin.” 

She glanced behind her to see if Octavia had heard their exchange, but she just smiled softly at her, Raven returning it as they followed the path up the side of the house. 

The sun was just beginning to set, a deep orange glow settling over the large backyard. The smell of charcoal and citronella candles scented the air, as fairy lights glowed dimly from the back deck and the branches of the surrounding trees. 

They all paused just at the edge of the garden path, Clarke gaping. “ _This_ is small?” 

Lexa laughed, urging the three of them into the party. “Come on.” 

She led them through the crowd, people of all ages surrounding picnic tables and standing by the large barbecue and throughout the sizeable kitchen. The deck extended out to overlook a large garden nestled at the boundary fence. Kids were running around the backyard, their laughter singing into the late afternoon air. 

But all four stopped when a young boy with messy blonde hair pushed through the crowd. His skinny arms wrapped around Lexa’s waist with an elated grin. Lexa’s face mirrored his as he turned in her arms, just as a woman sauntered over to them with a beer in hand and an intense set to her eyes. 

And Raven’s went wide, her mouth going dry. 

The woman was gorgeous – and her stare made Raven a little weak if she was being honest. 

“Clarke, this is Anya,” Lexa murmured, nodding to the woman that now stood in front of them. “She’s practically family. And this is her son, Aden.” Lexa placed both her hands on his shoulders, the boy tilting his chin up and smiling at her. 

“It’s nice to meet you both. These are my friends, R-” 

“Raven.” 

Raven practically stumbled over herself, her eyes on the older woman, Anya regarding her with a sly smile. She was in somewhat of a daze when Octavia cleared her throat next to her, Raven catching herself from staring. 

“Oh, and this Octavia.” 

 _Smooth, Reyes. Nice._  

Raven wanted to mentally kick herself. She didn’t mean to ignore Octavia. But something about Anya was more than a little distracting to say the least. The set of her eyes. The way her lips quirked ever so slightly. That air of confidence. 

Raven was an asshole and weak for a pretty face. Sue her. 

Anya’s gaze wandered over Raven. “You three look lost,” she stated, but it was in good humour. “Come to see how the other half live, have we?” 

“I’m the only loaded one, actually,” Clarke admitted sheepishly from her spot next to Lexa. 

“Yep, and we plan on taking full advantage until she cuts us off.” Raven smirked, her eyes still on Anya. She couldn’t have been older than 32, even with a kid. 

“She’s our little princess,” Octavia joked. 

Raven laughed at that. She’d always been fond of the nickname, ever since Octavia had coined it with Bellamy freshman year. Raven distinctly remembered there being a plastic tiara and a bit too many wine coolers involved. It was safe to say it stuck after that. 

Raven’s smile dropped from her face when she spotted a large man in a black wife-beater across from them. A look of annoyance and disgust had crossed his face, it setting Raven’s nerves on edge. 

Clarke appeared to notice as well. “I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?” 

The man sneered at her from across the table, “You don’t belong here, girl.” 

Raven’s blood boiled. She readied herself to say something, but Lexa was quicker. 

“Quint.” 

Lexa was livid, placing a hand on the small of Clarke’s back. Her jaw strained as she stared him down, her green grey eyes burning. 

Quint scoffed, but he held his tongue. With a grunt he pushed back from the picnic table, getting up and heading inside. 

“What an ass,” Octavia muttered. 

“He has his moments,” Anya shrugged, not looking all that bothered or surprised. 

Raven saw a look of barely there annoyance pass over Octavia’s face. It was subtle and Raven doubted Anya caught it. But she knew Octavia. She could see the slight clench of her jaw, and her lips purse just enough. 

“You okay, O?” 

Aden had moved out of the embrace and had stolen Anya’s attention, the two heading off after Clarke and Lexa. 

“I’m fine,” she dismissed, giving Raven a half smile. “Think I saw Nyko on our way in. I’m gonna go say hey.” 

Raven watched her weave through the small crowd and to a group that was standing under a large tree scattered with fairy lights. Her chest ached slightly at Octavia’s words, Raven grabbing a beer from one of the many ice buckets and taking a seat at an empty picnic table. 

She knew Octavia. Knew when something was off. Knew when she needed her friends, or just needed her own space. And she knew when to let things go unnoticed. Raven had known her since she was a sophomore and Octavia was still in middle school. When she was just Bellamy’s little sister. When she was just that kid that used to tag along with them to the movies, or hang out with them at the beach, all skinned knees and unbridled energy. 

But she hadn’t been Bellamy’s little sister to Raven in a long time. There was a moment, and Raven wasn’t exactly sure when, that she stopped being the younger Blake, and was just Octavia. Beautiful and reckless. And then another when she became even more to Raven than just that. The moment she became a certain thing. 

And that was a moment she wasn’t sure to forget. 

“Where’s Pocahontas?” 

Raven looked up from her drink to find that intense gaze and a small teasing smile. “Pocahontas?” 

“The girl you came here with,” Anya ventured. 

Raven chuckled, “Saying hey to a friend. Well, a friend of her _boyfriend_ ,” she admitted. 

 _Did that just sound bitter?_  

“And here I thought you two were...” Anya made a vague hand gesture that wasn’t at all lost on Raven. It caused her to choke on her beer, her skin heating at her words. 

“No, no. We’re not-” she faltered; Raven was sure her cheeks were bright red. “I mean we’re not a coupl-” 

Anya put both her hands up in mock surrender, “If that’s your story.” 

Raven took a moment to compose herself. It wasn’t the first time they’d been mistaken as more than just friends, and it never failed to make Raven blush. 

“And what’s yours?” 

Anya’s smirk deepened as she sat down next to her. “How much time do you have?”

* * *

Anya was an enigma. 

That much was clear. 

A puzzle wrapped in dark denim and a loose white V-neck that Raven couldn’t quite figure out. But a puzzle that was so intriguing and beautiful that she found herself wanting to solve it. 

They’d be talking for well over an hour, moving underneath one of the larger trees in the backyard with a plate of food and a drink. Raven was surprised at just how easy it was with her. She was refreshing, and honest – at times brutally so. But it was nice. She was a distraction of the most intoxicating kind, and she had Raven wanting to ask those questions that had been burning her tongue since she’d first laid eyes on her – not that anything had stopped Raven before. 

“So what’s with the kid?” Raven asked bluntly, sipping her beer. “You hardly look old enough to be a mom.” 

“Cute,” she tutted, rolling her eyes. Raven smirked back. “He wasn’t planned, if that’s what you mean. I was young, and his father fucked off when he found out.” Anya shrugged, unperturbed. It was probably an old wound. “He’s a good kid, though.” 

“I don’t doubt.”  
  
Raven’s eyes strayed to the grassy area under the deck where Lexa was sparring with him. She was kneeling while Aden kept his fists up and at the ready; Lexa taking sluggish swings at him. He ducked them deftly and threw a few of his own back, hitting her open palms.

“She’s good with him,” Raven commented absently, moving her attention back to Anya.

“Yeah, well we grew up together. We’re practically sisters. So naturally she became that cool aunt that every boy needs. They’re pretty much inseparable when they’re around each other.” Anya paused, looking at them both with complete adoration shining in those dark eyes. “It’s rather annoying, actually.” 

Raven laughed, nodding to herself. 

“So what’s with the brace?” Anya asked around a mouthful of potato salad. 

“Wow,” Raven gaped, her eyes wide as she lowered her fork. “That wasn’t subtle at all.” 

“Says the girl who just hit on me with _what’s with the kid_.” 

“Touché,” Raven granted. “…I don’t know. Most people just pretend not to see it, or stare at me until its awkward.” 

“I’m not most people,” Anya countered. 

Raven nodded slowly. She certainly wasn’t. “Childhood accident. Drunken parental units, they can be _such_ fun.” 

“I wouldn’t know. I grew up in share homes,” she stated, sipping her drink. “The carers could have been nicer.” 

Raven smiled sadly at that, looking down at her leg. “A shard of glass punctured my spine when I was pushed backwards through a coffee table.” 

She was devoid as she said it, like she was reading the weather and not recounting one of her worst memories. She’d accepted it, and there was nothing she could do. 

“I can’t feel shit from my knee down.” Raven touched the brace as she spoke, her fingers running over the rigid metal. “It’s whatever.” 

Anya didn’t say anything as she leant forward. 

She started at the top of Raven’s knee, slowly moving to where the nerves had turned dead. And Raven just stared. She usually hated it, only letting a few in her life do what Anya had just done. But something about her was calming for Raven. And maybe it was because she was distracting her from the constant ache in her chest, but Raven found herself wanting Anya to keep her hand there – and she did. 

“I think it’s pretty cool, if you ask me,” Anya reasoned. “The brace. I mean clearly it doesn’t stop you. If anything, it looks like it motivates you even more.” 

Anya only lingered a moment longer before she took her hand back, Raven missing the contact instantly. She tucked it into her lap, her eyes moving over the crowd that were up on the deck and scattered about the backyard. 

Lexa was still with Aden on the grass, while Clarke and Octavia were over on the deck with Gus. He was huge from what Raven had seen of him. Tattooed with dreads, and a big smile. But Raven was happy for her best friend. They seemed to be getting along, the pair sitting with a darker woman with short hair at one of the long picnic tables. 

“Looks like we have an audience.” 

Raven glanced back at Anya with a raised brow. 

“Your _friend_ keeps looking over here.”

She ignored the infliction Anya put on the word, shoving her gently as she looked over and caught Octavia’s eye. But she looked away, that flash of green making Raven’s heart race. Those eyes never failed to elicit that reaction. 

“Hey, Mom.” 

Raven turned back to see Aden standing next to them, a bright smile on his face and his skin flushed from playing. 

“Hey there, kiddo,” Anya soothed, her fingers combing his messy hair from his eyes. 

Aden squirmed away from his mother’s touch, “Can me and Gavriel go to the skate park tomorrow?” he half pleaded, grinning at Anya. “Uncle Semet got him a new board for his birthday.” 

“Oh, did he now?” 

Suddenly feeling like she was intruding, Raven got to her feet. “I’ll just make myself scarce.” 

“Not too scarce, I hope.” Anya quirked her eyebrow at her, almost as a challenge. “I’ll see you ‘round, Reyes.” 

Raven nodded with smile and let them be, moving up the backyard. She took the wooden stairs to the deck, spotting Octavia sitting alone, her eyes on the horizon and the fairy lights in the trees. 

“Hey you,” Raven greeted, placing her beer down on the table in front of her. Octavia glanced up at her with a small raise of her chin. 

“Hey yourself.”  
  
Raven was sure that even Gus and his neighbour could feel the tension from where they were sitting. Octavia’s eyes were slightly glassy, like she’d just been crying or was on the verge of tears, and it sent that ache in Raven’s chest spreading down her forearms and out to her fingertips.

Raven bit her lip against it, looking away.

She pushed her half empty bottle to the centre of the table, watching Clarke and Lexa on the makeshift dance floor. Her thoughts were lost on Octavia – but honestly, when weren’t they. They’d been lost for a while and weren’t coming back. And Raven honestly couldn’t remember a time when Octavia hadn’t plague them.

 _It was probably a Thursday._  

She needed more Thursdays. A whole week of them would be nice. Or a year, she wasn’t fussed. 

Raven’s attention was still on the two of them when Clarke leant in and captured Lexa’s lips in a heated kiss.

“Gross.” 

“Seems to be a lot of that going tonight.” Octavia’s voice sounded dejected. Her fingers were picking at the completely destroyed label of her beer, her eyes on the dance floor as well. 

“How do you figure?” Raven questioned, tilting her head toward her. 

Octavia’s smile was sad. “Just-” She paused, swallowing hard. “Looks like you made a new friend, is all. I’m happy for you.” Octavia dropped her gaze, her fingers still working the label, “She seems nice. A little old for you, but nice.” 

Raven shifted closer on the wooden bench. “What can I say?” she admitted resolutely, trying to get Octavia to smile. “I always have had a weakness for a purple rinse and a solid framed walker.”

It worked, if only for a second. It soon fell away, and Raven hated it. It was hard enough to be near her when the tension wasn’t there, let alone having it hang like a heavy cloud over them both. She itched to ask her what was wrong, wanting and needing to see that smile that had been taking her breath away for the better part of a year.

“So are we still on for next week?”

“Of course,” Octavia affirmed. “Having those two come home completely wasted at four in the morning…well, I’d like the company.” 

“Damage control with the two man babies? Sounds like my kind of Friday night,” Raven teased, Octavia smiling at her. This one touched her eyes. 

“Deal.” 

“It’s a date then,” Raven commented without thinking, freezing when realisation hit her a moment later. She opened her mouth to take them back, but the words were already out, and green eyes were meeting hers with a wide expression. 

 _Two for two, Reyes._

_Great job._

The tension was back in full force. Only it was different. Like an electrical current had passed through them, leaving static in its wake. Raven’s skin felt like it was on fire, her heart bumping rapidly against her ribs beneath her loose singlet. 

Octavia broke first, moving her gaze to the backyard and to the garden where Clarke and Lexa were now cuddling up to each other on an old blanket. The citronella torches threw an orange glow over the two girls and the surrounding flowers, the shadows picking out private smiles and wandering hands.

“Do you think she’s the one?”

Octavia’s voice was somewhat distant and faint, like she was afraid of disturbing their quiet.

“Lexa?”

Octavia hesitated, but eventually nodded. “I mean they look happy enough.”

Raven was thoughtful for a moment, watching the way Lexa pulled her closer, hands finding hands in the dark.

Raven never thought she’d ever meet someone that loved Clarke Griffin as much as she did. But looking at Lexa, how careful she was with her, and the way those eyes lit up with every word that fell from her best friend’s lips, it made Raven think otherwise.

“I think so. It’s like Clarke sees no point without her. It’s honestly disgusting to watch.”

“You got all that from a look?” Octavia chuckled, wetting her lips, those eyes not leaving hers. They twinkled brightly in the surrounding lights. Like the stars had exploded in her irises. Raven couldn’t do more than nod, feeling trapped under that gaze. It was paralysing.

And if Raven hadn’t been watching her so closely she would have missed it. Would have passed it off as just a shift in the breeze, or a trick of the surrounding fairy lights. It was a subtle change. Octavia’s expression grew softer, her lips parting. “What else do you see?”

There was something in those eyes that told Raven she wasn’t talking about Clarke. The joking light was falling away and it was replaced with an earnest look that honestly made Raven falter. This was dangerous.

Swallowing her nerves that now prickled at her fingertips, Raven lowered her voice, her eyes hitting the picnic table. She couldn’t look at her. She wasn’t sure if that made her a coward, or incredibly brave. 

“That Clarke’s in love with her,” Raven murmured. A part of her needed to say it. Needed Octavia to hear it, even if it was guised as something else. “And just the thought of Lexa being with someone that isn’t her kills her.” 

She took in a shaky breath, looking up at Octavia whose expression had turned raw, and slightly taken aback. And at that, Raven slipped. “But it would be selfish of her to want anything different if she were truly happy, right?"

There was a breath. Those perfect lips parted around words that just wouldn’t come, until she finally settled on ones that could. “She is,” Octavia whispered after a time. “Happy.” 

Yeah, they definitely weren’t talking about Clarke.

“Umm, I need to-” She needed to get away. Needed to put as much distance between her and Octavia as possible, whose eyes were making her heart sink deeper into her stomach. “I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta-”

She pointed vaguely over her shoulder, not bothering to finish her sentence. She couldn’t breathe. She stood and stumbled through the kitchen, skirting around bodies upon bodies and heading toward the empty hall.

When she reached the small bathroom, Raven swung the door shut behind her – a little harder than she had intended. She leant against it; her eyes clenched shut and her lips pressed together. She counted backwards from 10, trying to will her heart rate back to normal. It didn’t work. It felt like her heart was going to bottom out and fall to the cold tiled floor beneath her.

She crossed the room, resting her palms against the porcelain sink. It cooled her heated skin, as Raven stared at her reflection. Of course Octavia was happy. She wasn’t stupid; she’d been witness to it for months. But to hear it confirmed like that, so plain and simple, felt like lead in her stomach and ice in her veins.

_Let her go, Reyes. Just bury it._

_She’s with Lincoln._  

There was a light knock at the door, one Raven didn’t bother answering – she knew who it was. 

Octavia wordlessly edged the door open, closing it behind her. Raven watched her approach in the mirror’s reflection, saying nothing. Her heart was in her throat; she’d never come so close to admitting her feelings to Octavia before. It was absolutely terrifying. 

Octavia was silent, leaning on the shower door. Her hands were behind her back, touching the glass for support. Raven could see that she was trying to conceal the nerves in her fingertips. The trembling. The clenching of her fists. It showed.

“I don’t know a lot, about us. I thought I did, before I-” Octavia stopped herself. Her voice was raw, like she was having a hard time getting the words out. “I just know that I wanted to be the reason you smiled tonight.” Her words hit Raven square in the chest, her nerves spreading like needles across her skin. “And I know that I wanted to be the only one allowed to touch you the way that she was. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to ruin that. But I just know that the way it felt to see you with Anya, that’s not how a best friend should feel.” 

She took in a deep breath as Raven turned to face her, staring at Octavia as she heard the words she didn’t think were possible coming from her, words she thought were only one sided for a whole year up until now. And now that she was hearing them, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. They were too much. Too real. 

“And I honestly don’t know what it means,” she shrugged helplessly. “And that scares the _shit_ out of me.”

Raven bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “You love him?”

“I do.” 

“But you don’t love me like that.”

At this point she was only voicing what she already knew to be true. As much as it hurt to say those words aloud. To acknowledge them.

Octavia closed the distance between them in two strides, Raven wiping a stray tear from falling down her cheek. Octavia took her hand. She was only inches from her, her expression conflicted and pleading. “ _I don’t know_ ,” she heaved. Her fingers toyed with Raven’s, the gesture pleading on its own. “I know that sounds like complete bullshit, but I don’t. I thought I knew how I felt. That things were black and white, and that I could go on with my life and be fine with that.” 

“And now?” 

She rested her forehead against Raven’s, it causing her to shudder. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. Not when thinking about you with somebody else is killing me too.”

Raven was about to answer, with words she didn’t know she should say, or even could say, when Clarke peered around the door. Octavia’s eyes shot up and she took a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“It’s fine.” Octavia wiped at her eyes, giving Clarke a weak smile. 

“Lexa offered to take me home. You two okay if I take off?”

“Yeah, of course,” Raven choked, taking in a deep breath. “Text me when you get there.” 

Octavia agreed with a shaky nod, Clarke already closing the door again. “Have a good night, you two. I’ll message you.” 

Raven’s heart was hammering wildly as it clicked shut, her throat tight and unyielding.

“We should, umm.” She pointed to the door, not able to look Octavia in the eye, scared of what she’d see or find in them – she wasn’t brave enough for that.

“Probably.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

The drive home was painful.

Raven kept her radio low, the late night talk show the only sound cutting through the thick quiet that had settled between them.

Her mind kept replaying Octavia’s words. How raw and honest they were. How they seemed to give her all the answers, and yet none at all. And how they were everything to her, everything she wanted to hear, making sure that whatever it was that was between them couldn’t be buried. 

The apartment Octavia shared with Bellamy wasn’t as far as Clarke’s house, but it was enough to have Raven praising a higher power when she saw the street come into view. 

She pulled up outside the two-storey apartment complex, killing the engine of her Jeep and pulling out the keys. 

Raven gnawed on her lower lip. “Are we gonna forget about this tomorrow?”

It was a question she was scared to ask, but one she needed to know. They’d swept so much of their relationship away over the years that Raven wasn’t sure she wanted this to just be another one of those moments left at the door.

But maybe it was easier that way.

Safer.

Octavia swallowed hard. It was so quiet. “Is that what you want?” 

Raven had her eyes on her lap. “I want you.”

It was only a whisper. A prayer. A hopeless kind of craving. She looked up at her then, trying hard to not let her tears fall. “But we both know that’s not gonna happen.” 

“Raven.”

She hated the pity she heard in that voice. The rejection. It tore at her, making her hands shake. 

“I’ll let you know if Clarke texts me,” Raven choked. She tried to swallow down the hurt, her eyes on the road and her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly – like it was her lifeline and the only thing anchoring her to the ground, to this moment. 

“I don’t-” 

“It’s fine, O,” Raven dismissed with what she hoped was a smile. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Octavia let out a strained breath and unbuckled her seatbelt, hopping down onto the hot pavement. “Goodnight, Rey.”

Raven stayed like that, still and unbreathing, until the lights in Octavia’s bedroom went dark.

Yeah, their friendship was completely fucked. 


	2. Part II

Raven awoke to the smell of pancakes drifting in through the gap under her door. She groaned into her pillow, her stomach grumbling in protest. Brushing the sleep from her eyes, Raven sat up, her sheets pooling around her waist. It was a little before 10, her clock radio flashing green and threatening to go off.

The morning was bright. The sunlight streaming in through her sheer curtains reminded her there was a world outside her window, waiting for her to greet it.

But all too sudden the night came back to her. 

Raven sighed inwardly, hoping it was a dream; that the images and words that passed behind her closed eyelids were a trick of her mind, or a cruel nightmare. That she would get up and check her phone, and it wouldn’t show her the messages to Clarke, and it would let her know that she hadn’t just told one of her best friend’s that she was in love with her. 

But Raven had never been that lucky. 

She’d come home the night before to find both her roommates baked and playing COD. She dropped her car keys in the bowl by the door, before wandering over to the couch where Monty and Jasper were lounging, Starburst gummis scattered around them and the faint smell of weed clinging to their clothes. 

She’d nodded at them tiredly, ruffling Jasper’s long hair that hung in his eyes on her way to her bedroom. They’d murmured their greetings, but both were too lost on their screens in front of them to achieve more than a one-word response and a vague hand gesture over the back of the couch. Raven had laughed lightly to herself, sending them both a goodnight, before closing her bedroom door. 

She’d shot off a quick text to Clarke, not having heard from her, before falling thankfully into her soft pillow, only to be woken just after 4 a.m. to a vague but reassuring response. Raven felt it was her duty as best friend to spam her with the need for sordid details after that – to which she received zero replies. She wasn’t all that surprised though. Clarke Griffin was never one to text when she was wrapped up in someone else. She was chivalrous like that. 

She did however wake up to a text from Octavia. 

 **The Better Blake  
** **Text Message – 8:43 a.m.**

Raven stared at the name on her phone, afraid to swipe it open. Afraid to read what it said, and have the nightmare not just be a dream. Their words from the night before flashed in her mind again, and it only made the nerves worse – this wasn’t real.

Raven remembered when Octavia had hacked her phone last summer and changed the contact. She remembered the roof and the clear night, the pair raiding Bellamy’s liquor cabinet and watching the stars. It was the night she fell for her. They’d been friends for over five years, and that one night was all it took. It was partly the reason she’d never changed it back. It was a constant reminder of that night. The night she became more to her than just Octavia Blake. 

The night she became a certain thing. 

After staring at the text for entirely too long, Raven flicked it opened. 

 **[8:43 a.m.] The Better Blake: …I’m sorry**

It was real. 

Raven read the message over and over, a bitter taste forming in her mouth. She had expected a brush off. A random text about what she had for breakfast, or a casual invite to go shopping at the local mall. That would have been easy. That would have been _them_. To just forget a fight, or an argument, or a drunken night with a little too much honesty in their touch. 

But this, this was an admittance. It was too close to acknowledging what was said. It was too vague. And it had Raven wishing it had just been a random thought or an invitation, and them just going back to being best friends. Before the veil was lifted between them, and before she’d admitted that she was in love with her. 

Raven bit her lip, sitting up further in bed. Her fingers hovered over the touch screen, one second, two seconds, before typing out a response. The one that was needed, and not the one she wanted. 

 **[10:02 a.m.] Raven Reyes: Quit apologising and come over for pancakes**  

It was the best she could do. She didn’t want it to be awkward, though she knew it would be. It had to be. She just needed normal. And if Octavia wasn’t going to give her that, then she’d damn near pull teeth to get it. It wouldn’t be the first time – Raven had knack for the awkward. 

Octavia’s reply took a few minutes, Raven moving to her chest of drawers to retrieve a pair of denim shorts, before pulling on her brace. She glanced around her room as she did, sitting on the edge of her bed and securing the straps. It was neat, with the odd pair of boots sitting by the door of her closet, and the small engine part she’d taken home from the garage sitting on her work desk, ready to be dismantled and cleaned.

Her message tone went off on her beside table, the opening guitar riff to _Voodoo Child_ startling her. 

 **[10:06 a.m.] The Better Blake: On a run with Bell, but enjoy :)**  

Yeah, it was awkward. 

But Raven hadn’t really expected anything different. It was a long shot to begin with. There wasn’t the same ease to her text. The effortless teasing. Or even the harmless flirting. She really didn’t know what she was hoping for – just not that. It was too nice. Polite. And nothing like the Octavia she fell in love with.

With a sigh, Raven got up and wandered into the kitchen to see Monty and Jasper in front of the stove, a bowl of pancake batter next to them and an array of different add-ins lying on the counter with the maple syrup. 

“Morning.” 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Jasper greeted cheerily, with a wave of his spatula. 

Monty popped a blueberry into his mouth with a boyish grin. “Big night?” 

Raven just grumbled unintelligible and plopped down on the nearest stool at the breakfast bar. 

Both nodded sagely to each other. “Big night.”

Raven just buried her face in the crook of her folded arms with no comment other than a garbled demand for coffee. She’d lived with Monty and Jasper for nearly two years, all three attending UCLA; Jasper in pharmacology, and Monty studying computer sciences. 

They’d met in the university’s library freshmen year and had been friends ever since. The two boys had been geeking out over who would win in a knife fight, Blade or Deadpool, when Raven had caught wind of their argument from the next aisle over – her money was on Deadpool, and Monty had never forgiven her for it. 

The guy could grow back limbs. It was no contest. 

So when it came time to move out of the dorms and get a place of their own, it seemed like the obvious choice. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to live with Clarke again, having to for her first year and almost failing one of her subjects due her partying ways – it was only the loss of a few marks, but she had never let her forget it. 

But they had parted amicably. Her best friend eventually decided to move out with Atom and Murphy, two guys they’d meet in high school, and two guys that embraced her love of keg stands and beer pong. Raven suspected they’d love the fact that their roommate’s new girlfriend was a bartender – she had a hunch. 

Raven slipped off her bar stool when Monty set a fresh mug of coffee down in front of her. Taking a careful sip, she came up behind them, hip-checking Jasper mid-flip. 

He stumbled, but still managed to salvage the pancake, glaring at her, his gaze narrowed and not in the least bit threatening. “This one’s yours.”

She stared down at the smeared mess in the frying pan with a smirk. “Looks edible to me,” she shrugged, adding extra blueberries to the second batch. 

After they’d switched off the hotplate, the kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it, flour over the benches, syrup dripping off of a drawer handle, stray batter in Jasper’s hair. It just made Raven laugh, taking her breakfast and the remains of her coffee to the small dining table near the couch – that was a job for future Raven. 

“Do you have a shift at the garage later?” Monty asked around a fork full of syrup-covered pancake.

“Yeah, going in for a few hours this afternoon. Sinclair has some body work he needs my help with.” 

Jasper hummed thoughtfully. “Pretty sure that was the plot to a porno I watched the other day.” 

“Please, we both know there’s no plot to the porn you watch,” Raven grinned. 

“What can I say?” he shrugged, no shame. “I’m a man of simple means.” 

Raven snorted, flicking one of her blueberries at him, it catching him on the side of the face. 

“Hey!” Jasper retorted, batting it away. 

“It’s to go with the pancake you have in your hair.” 

Monty just looked at his best friend, shaking his head. “Dude.” 

God, she loved her roommates. 

Raven watched as Monty fussed over him. He was wiping the batter away from Jasper’s ear with a dishtowel just as her phone vibrated next to her plate. Seeing it was from Clarke, Raven swiped it open with her free hand, the other draining the remains of her coffee.

 **[10:32 a.m.] Griffin: Lexa wants to go to the beach tomorrow morning. Wanna come with?**  

Raven left it unanswered until she’d finished her breakfast, not one for texting at the table. But by the time she was done, she’d received one from Octavia as well. 

**[10:40 a.m.] The Better Blake: So am I gonna see you tomorrow?**

There was no doubt. It was awkward. At least she felt like it was. 

Raven replayed their conversation again, over and over, her stomach twisting uncomfortably, wishing she could just go back and not say anything. Wishing she could go back and just have not answered her when she asked, or brushed it off as a joke. But story of her life, she fucked it up and there was no going back. This was her new normal.

Once they’d finished breakfast, Raven sent off some confirmations while she entrusted cleaning the kitchen to the boys – she was really going out on a limb on that one. She put her phone on charge in her bedroom, before wandering back into the living room and settling down on the couch for a morning binge watch of Daredevil on Netflix. 

Raven glanced at Monty as she pulled a cushion into her lap, “Who do you guys think would win in a knife fight, Daredevil or Deadpool?” 

“I hate you.”

* * *

They’d arrived at the beach early the next day. Half a dozen surfers were already out in the water, as predawn joggers pounded up and down the sand. Raven was pretty sure the last time she’d witnessed an actual sunrise was when the six of them hadn’t even bothered to sleep. It glowed soft pinks and yellows over the hills behind them, tinting the water and shining out over the low clouds.

“I’m not nearly awake enough for this,” Raven grumbled, sipping at her takeaway coffee cup, and sitting down next to Clarke on the cool sand.

“Bitch, you drove us here,” Clarke blanched, her eyes wide. 

Raven hummed soothingly around her next sip, patting her arm gently. “Griffin, I could drive in a state of complete comatose, and still achieve a perfect parallel park.”

“It’s true,” Octavia provided, picking up her board from where it was pitched in the sand. “I’ve seen it.” 

“Enough talk, we’re wasting the sunrise,” Lexa tutted, pecking Clarke on the lips, before taking off down the sand with Octavia in tow. 

Both were clad in black bikinis, their surfboards caught under their arms. Raven tired not to stare. 

She tried. 

She failed. 

She wasn’t subtle.

“So how are things going with pool girl?” Raven edged, leaning back on her palms. The sand was rough beneath her fingertips, Raven loving the grittiness and the slowly growing heat. She truly was a Cali girl. 

Clarke sighed happily, her eyes on Lexa as both of them hit the water. “Perfect.” 

“You totally tapped that, didn’t you?” 

Clarke quirked a perfect eyebrow at her over the top of her aviators. “Raven,” she scolded playfully.

Raven just shook her head with a laugh, her scolding tone confirmation enough. “Guess that answers the girlfriend question.” 

“She might be,” Clarke grinned, staring out over the sunrise, wave after wave crashing against the white sand. Raven was happy for her. Honestly. 

They both settled into a comfortable silence, watching the two girls pull wave after wave. Raven had to admit it was amazing to watch. Octavia had been surfing and skating for as long as she’d known her, but it still never failed to leave Raven in awe of her. It was a turn on. She couldn’t deny it.

Her friend was almost hesitant when her voice broke their silence. Clarke must of have sensed Raven’s mood. Of course she did. She was Clarke. It was just a matter of time. 

“How are things with Octavia?” 

“Weird.” 

Raven pushed her Ray Ban’s further up the bridge of her nose against the growing glare. Weird. That was a word for it. 

“Weird as in awkward weird?” Clarke asked. “Or kinky weird?” 

Raven laughed, her eyes still on the water. The sun was finally up, shining through the thin layer of clouds. “Like I didn’t just tell her I was in love with her two days ago.” 

Any kind of awkwardness that Raven thought she would find had completely melted away the moment Octavia pulled herself into her Jeep that morning, the other two already in the back with the boards secured to the roof. 

She’d arrived just before 5 a.m., as per Lexa’s orders. And despite the early hour, Raven was met with a bright smile that only succeeded in making her heart catch in her throat. But there was nothing. No awkward tension. No nervous glances. Octavia just flicked on the radio, and it was like they were them again. 

Clarke was still looking at her, pushing her sunglasses into her hair and waiting for her to continue.

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Raven shook her head with a sigh, her fingertips digging into the sand. “She made it clear that she’s in love with her boyfriend. So that’s that.” 

“Raven,” Clarke edged carefully. She had that look. “What I walked in on that night was not a girl that knew what she wanted.” Clarke sat forward, her eyes moving back to the horizon. “She looked seconds away from kissing you, if you ask me.” 

“No one _did_ ask you, Griffin.” 

“Fuck you.”

Clarke nudged her shoulder, giggling, those blue eyes lighting up with the morning sun. And _god_ , how she loved Clarke Griffin. It was one of those certain things, if not _the_ certain thing.

The two stared out over the waves. 

Seagulls circled high overhead and landed further up the beach, Raven watching them absently. It was calming. And that was something she needed. More calm. Less storm. Less of the thrumming in her chest that had replaced the sinking feeling that came with that night. And more awkward. She _craved_ awkward.

 _God, I need a Thursday._  

It wasn’t long before Lexa and Octavia called it a day, coming back in off the surf. They jogged up the sand, water dripping from their boards, and their skin glistening in the sunlight, both out of breath and grinning. 

Driving the tip of her surfboard into the sand, Lexa bent down to capture Clarke’s lips in a soft kiss, her braids flicking water over her girlfriend. Raven knew they were in their honeymoon phase, but by the look of the pair they didn’t look to be leaving it any time soon. 

Octavia sat down on the spare towel with Raven after pitching her own board next to Lexa’s. She smelled like salt water and suntan lotion, and something that was always Octavia. Sweet, like fruit scented body wash. It was entirely too intoxicating for the early hour, Raven taking the last sip of her now cold coffee, her mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara desert. 

Raven forced herself not to stare at her body, and the water that was running in rivulets down her stomach, pooling gently near her belly bar. Or the tattoo of the three black birds that floated on Octavia's hip and stretched to just under her navel. She’d gotten it when she was 17 to represent herself, her brother, and her mom. 

It was nothing if not distracting. 

But she wasn’t staring. 

She wasn’t. 

“Good surf?” Clarke asked after Lexa had peeled herself off of her lips, and had sat down next to her on the sand. 

Lexa hummed, nodding with a soft smile. “Would you like me to teach you?” 

“To surf?” Raven shared a look with Octavia, both not able to stifle the laughter that slipped out. Clarke just glared at them. “I’m sorry, but I’m not nearly coordinated enough, babe. Octavia tried to teach me a few years ago. It didn’t go so well.” 

“Octavia is not me,” Lexa stated plainly, leaning in closer to her lips. “I’m told I am an excellent instructor.” 

“ _God_ , would you two stop?” Octavia exclaimed with a look of mock disgust. “You manage to even make something as simple as surf lessons sound sexual.” 

“Since when are surf lessons _not_ sexual?” Raven countered. “Anything that involves riding an inanimate object while getting wet is innately sexual just on principle.” 

“Okay, fair point,” Octavia conceded. 

Lexa just chuckled, pecking Clarke’s lips and settling back on her towel. 

“So breakfast at the Pier, you two?” Clarke asked. “I think it’s time we popped Lexa’s cherry, so to speak.” 

“Thought you already did that.” 

“Raven!”

* * *

The four had spent the morning together only to meet up again later that night at Clarke’s house. Her mother was out of town attending a society dinner with her next-door neighbour, Marcus. And whenever the parental units left it was always their cue to flock to the Griffin house. 

It was tradition, really. Had to be done. 

Raven was looking down at her phone and at the message she’d just received from her roommates. “Monty and Jasper send their condolences.” 

“They’re playing COD again, aren’t they?” Octavia raised her eyebrows. She was putting on mascara in the large mirror, glancing at Raven in the reflection. 

“You know them so well.” 

“And condolences?” Octavia questioned. “Who died?” 

“Oh you know, just their willingness to ever hang out with us again.” 

Octavia chuckled at that, and Raven melted, dropping her phone to the comforter beneath her. 

She and Octavia were in one of Clarke’s spare bedrooms, getting ready before everyone was to arrive; while Lexa and Clarke were doing God knows what in Clarke’s room. They’d retreated inside 40 minutes ago and hadn’t been seen since. Raven didn’t want to know.

She leant back on the bed, her fingers toying gently with the cover. It was the first time she and Octavia had been alone since she’d dropped her home after Gus’ party, and now that the elephant had been completely acknowledged, Raven wasn’t sure if being alone with her was an entirely good idea.

Before everything happened, and before it was out in the open it was easy to hide her feelings. Pretend they weren’t there. Pretend it didn’t change anything between them. That she wasn’t in love with her. To pretend that they were just best friends, and things were black and white. 

But now there was a nervous energy between them. It hummed low and thick whenever she even got close to Octavia. And Raven wasn’t sure if it had always been there, and she’d just never noticed it before. Or if it was something that had only started since they’d left that bathroom.

“Can you zip me up?” 

Octavia was indicating to the back of her dress, the zip hanging loose at the nape of her neck where she’d just secured the clip 

“Sure,” Raven managed, dropping her lip-gloss to the bed. 

It was nothing she hadn’t done before. She’d been friends with Octavia for six years. But somehow this felt like the first time. Raven could feel the heat coming off of Octavia’s skin as soon as she stepped to her, it curling around her senses. She’d helped Octavia get dressed countless times before, it shouldn’t have been different. 

Except it was. It _so_ was. 

Her fingertips brushed long hair over Octavia’s shoulder and gripped the tiny zip. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her cheeks felt hot as she pulled it down Octavia's back. Brown hair was in loose curls and pinned to one side, showing off the line of piercings that circled Octavia’s right ear.

It was unnecessary. To linger as long as she did. Or to stand this close. But that damn elephant was practically saying hello and giving everyone high fives at this point. 

“Thanks,” Octavia murmured. It was soft, her eyes finding Raven’s in the vanity’s reflection. 

Why couldn’t it have been awkward? Raven could have dealt with awkward. Could have made a pun or a bad joke to break the tension, or end up just making it worse. Or at best, made Octavia laugh. 

But this, this wasn’t the awkward tension she needed or expected. This was just…dangerous. Like they’d peeled back a layer of themselves, and now everything was exposed and raw for anyone that cared to take note. 

“You look good.” Raven swallowed heavily around her words. It was a compliment she’d made a million times before, so why was it different? 

 _Because she knows now, dumbass._  

“Thanks,” Octavia whispered again. She had her palms pressed to the top of the white dressing table, her lips parted as she kept her eyes on Raven. 

And Raven made no effort to move, her fingers remaining on the small zipper near her lower back. She couldn’t even function. How did she get like this? Since when had she lost all semblance of control when it came to Octavia? 

“Raven,” Octavia breathed, her eyes falling shut. Raven hadn’t noticed that her hands had moved to rest on Octavia’s hips. They were gripping her gently through the thin material of her dress, her fingers burning. Or maybe that was just Octavia. 

She was about to open her mouth – to apologize, to make things worse, Raven didn’t know – when there was a loud opening and closing of the front door. Cheers and catcalls floated up the stairs and jolted them out of their daze. 

“Sorry,” Raven muttered, taking a step back. 

Octavia appeared to let out a breath; it pushing shakily passed her lips. “Sounds like the boys are here,” she hushed out, and it was the cold shower Raven needed.

Boys.

Boyfriend. 

Lincoln. 

“Right.”

* * *

“So was it you?” 

“Was it me what?” Atom looked completely taken aback. 

“That Bellamy, you know.” Raven gestured lewdly, her elbows resting against the wooden tabletop. 

“When are you gonna give it up, Reyes?” Bellamy came up next to her, sitting down with them at the large outdoor table. 

“Not until I know.” 

“What’s she talking about?” Atom still looked confused, taking a sip of his beer. They were about to start playing poker with Wells, Miller, and Harper, Bellamy dealing each of them a hand and dividing the chips. 

“I did the deed with a dude, and she wants to know who,” he stated simply, shuffling the remaining deck. 

“Damn right I do.” Raven took her two cards, peering at them discreetly. 

Bellamy just shook his head with that trademark grin. “Nice try.” 

It was night, the sky growing dark as the group of friends all lounged by the pool. There were empty pizza boxes stacked neatly on the barbecue, and something with a heavy beat pumping out of the outdoor sound system and mixing with the crashing waves in the distance. It really wasn’t Raven’s style. But she suspected that Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix didn’t really set the right mood – especially the one that Clarke and Lexa were attempting to create in the hot tub. 

“Raven,” Octavia called, floating by on the inflatable mattress. “He’s my ex, and that’s my brother.” 

“Yeah, back when you were both eating paste,” she argued, throwing two chips into the centre of the table. “Hardly warrants the bro code.” 

“I was 14!” 

“Details,” Raven chided. 

“Raven, stop,” Clarke said with finality. She’d pulled her lips away from Lexa’s neck, setting her with a levelled gaze. Raven only held it for a moment before it slipped into a grin. “You’re making our son uncomfortable.” 

“Son?” Bellamy contested. 

“How about _you_ stop?” Raven countered, grinning as well. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable…and horny.” 

Clarke was sitting on Lexa’s lap in the hot tub, her hands buried loosely in her hair – Raven didn’t even want to know where Lexa’s hands were. 

“My hot tub, Raven. My rules.” Clarke didn’t take her eyes off Lexa as she spoke, biting her bottom lip. Lexa just smirked, claiming them again in a heated kiss. 

Most of the view was obscured by a garden bed, so it wasn’t the worst position Raven had ever caught her in. But propriety and public decency had never stopped Clarke Griffin before. She had a one-track mind that girl. 

“Keep at it and you’ll be popping her pool cherry too,” Octavia goaded, sliding off the mattress and into the cool blue water. She was wearing her black bikini from surfing early that day, and Raven tried not to stare – keyword, tried. 

She really needed to work on her subtlety. 

She watched Octavia as she waded over to where Lincoln was sitting at the pool’s edge close to their table, leaning his head back on the pavers, his muscular arms outstretched. “We could always pop ours too, if you’re interested.” 

He said it low, whispering it in Octavia’s ear as she slid her arms around him. But Raven still heard it, her stomach completely bottoming out. She tried her best to school her expression, to keep the thudding in her chest from showing, and the nerves that prickled at her arms and fingertips in check. 

It didn’t work. 

“You okay?” Bellamy asked in a hushed tone, after calling for the second round of bets. 

His voice was muffled like she was hearing him underwater, blood pulsing in her ears. “Deal me out, would you?” 

“You sure?” Concern was lining his dark eyes and the strong set of his jaw. He reached out a hand and rested it on top of hers. It was comforting – Bellamy always had that effect. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, forcing a smile. She folded her cards in front of her, “Give you guys a chance to keep your rent money for the week,” she jested weakly to a chorus of quiet laughter. 

She kept her eyes off Octavia, not wanting to see the answer to Lincoln’s question – hearing it was enough. 

“Whatever you say, Raven.” Miller flexed his shoulders, tossing in three more chips. “We all know I got this.” 

Bellamy was the only one that was paying any attention or concern. The rest of the table jeered loudly, throwing Starburst gummis at him as Raven got to her feet and made a beeline for the guesthouse, needing to place tangible distance between her and Octavia. 

The music dimmed, and the sound of the ocean faded away as she closed the glass door behind her. She crossed slowly to the bathroom, taking in deep breaths and gripping the basin tightly with both hands. 

It was like after the weekend she was incapable of being around them. And maybe it was the fact that she knew Octavia felt something too that was making every comment feel like someone was stabbing her in the chest. Knowing that, and seeing her with Lincoln, touching him, laughing with him. Raven liked Lincoln. He was a great guy. Which was just another tick against why this was so damn hard. 

“Raven?”

That voice only succeeded in pushing the knife deeper.

Raven tried desperately to compose herself, turning away from the mirror. “I’ll be out in a min-” 

But her words died on her tongue, Octavia already in the entryway of the bathroom, closing the door gently behind them. She crossed to the sinks and stood next to her, resting her hip against the counter. “What’s wrong?” 

Her eyes were so earnest and full of concern. And it broke Raven. Octavia hadn’t bothered drying off, water dripping to the tiles below. And Raven wanted to walk back outside, place that distance between them again. But she was frozen, her thoughts sitting heavy in her mouth.

Her gaze hit her feet. Raven concentrated on the coolness touching her palms, and not on the tingling in her fingertips. “I can’t see you with him, O,” she breathed. It came out as nothing more than a whisper. And now they were out, she let the rest of her words go. “I thought I could, but I can’t. Ever since we-” 

She didn’t bother finishing; they both knew what she was going to say. 

Octavia opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. And Raven’s heart ached at that look. It was so helpless and conflicted, like she just didn’t know. 

Raven leant back heavily on the low counter, her eyes still on the tiled floor. 

She felt rather than saw Octavia move closer; the wetness of her skin and the heat brushing over her, making Raven take in a shuttering breath.

“Then close your eyes.”

It was soft, Octavia’s words caressing her cheek. Raven’s breath hitched at their proximity, but she closed them. Partly so she wasn’t tempted to stare. To watch those green eyes roam her features. So she watched the backs of her eyelids instead. But it didn’t stop the burst of colour when she finally felt Octavia. 

The first touch was so soft. And the second made Raven nearly loses it. It was quiet and perfect, fingertips brushing her sides and Octavia’s nose brushing her cheek. And when Raven felt her press against her, her brain short-circuited. 

She could feel the dampness of her skin, it seeping into the thin fabric of her top. 

“You’re making me wet.” Raven felt Octavia chuckle at her side, her touch not stopping. “I mean because _you’re_ wet. I mean you’re _skin_ is wet. _Christ_.”

“Am I making you nervous?” 

Raven didn’t answer. She tried to keep in control. But it was slowly slipping. She’d been this close to Octavia before, but never like this. Never this honest. The backs of knuckles were grazing the bare skin of her ribs left by her crop top, setting Raven’s skin alight 

“You should stop,” Raven whispered, her eyes open and fixing on green. “Before I do something stupid.” 

It was quiet for a long pause. Raven felt a hand on her hip and warm wet skin move closer. “What if I wanted you to?” 

Raven took a breath, “O.” 

A sharp knock at the door jarred them both. 

Another interruption, and another bucket of cold water. Raven was going to get whiplash if this kept happening. 

“Just a minute.” 

Raven prayed that the person on the other side listened. She straightened up, turning back to the mirror, as Octavia’s hands fell to her sides. 

“I’ll just go then,” she murmured thickly, not meeting her eye. 

Raven took a second to follow, composing herself as best she could, her mind reeling from what had just happened. Or not happened, depending on how she looked at it. 

She smiled weakly at Harper as she made her way out of the bathroom and through the guesthouse. The party was still going on outside, Clarke and Lexa still in the hot tub, the guys still playing poker on the outdoor table, with Lincoln floating by on the inflatable mattress. 

And Octavia was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Raven couldn’t deny it anymore. Things had changed. It seem liked every message they exchanged had a hidden meaning. Like they wanted to say more. Do more. But knew they couldn’t. And that they shouldn’t. So they didn’t.

It wasn’t awkward. It was torture.

Raven spent the week with Jasper and Monty, hanging out and playing video games, and marathoning Jessica Jones on Netflix. Clarke was with Lexa, and Octavia was spending time with Lincoln. A fact she tried her best not to dwell on, instead losing herself in Hell’s Kitchen and under the hoods of muscle cars at the garage. 

But there was always those moments, when she received a text or a Snapchat that had Raven taking a breath. Because she couldn’t see them as innocent anymore. She couldn’t. Not after what happened in the guesthouse. Not after feeling her pressed against her, and so very close. Not when she knew that if Harper hadn’t of interrupted that she would have done the very thing that she warned her about, all Octavia had to do was ask. 

She’d avoided her phone for most of the day, concentrating on her hands and the grease under her fingernails. It was Friday and she was working a shift with her boss, Sinclair, at his garage. They specialised in classic restorations, but they did all the basics on the side to keep the business earning money. And it did well. He’d been Raven’s automotive teacher in high school, Sinclair taking her on after she graduated on a part-time basis while she studied her mechanical engineering degree. 

It was good money, and even better hours, so Raven wasn’t complaining. 

She was under the hood of an old Honda Civic, _Immigrant Song_ playing lightly on the small radio next to her, humming as she worked. She pulled out the used filter from under the plastic cover, the new one resting on the engine ready to be fitted. Normal tune-ups and engine cleans were mindless for Raven, leaving her thoughts to wander. She came into the garage hoping for a distraction, from soft fingers, and wet skin, and warm wandering touches. But it was a hopeless wish, the guitar riffs of Led Zeppelin doing nothing for her either. 

“What are you doing, Reyes?” 

“Changing the filter,” she said, as if it was obvious, looking up at her boss who was staring at her with amusement lighting his warm eyes. 

“Well, that’s great,” Sinclair nodded. “But this car came in with a broken taillight, and rear bummer damage.” 

“Shit. Sorry, Boss,” Raven huffed, shaking her head, her hands stilling on the new filter. 

Sinclair looked at her curiously, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, just got a lot on my mind,” she dismissed with a weak smile, wiping her hands on the rag tucked into her overalls. “I got this. Broken taillight. Rear bummer damage.” 

He eyed her carefully, but nodded, knowing it was best not to get involved. Sinclair walked off and into the office out back, closing the door behind him. 

Raven sighed, finishing off changing the part before moving to the broken light. It was growing close to shutting time, the sky outside showing the soft orange glow of sunset. The radio switched over to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s _Free Bird_ just as Bellamy’s truck rumbled into the driveway, pulling up to the open roller door. 

He jumped down from the black Ford Pickup, that grin in place as Raven met him halfway, leaning against the metal frame of the door. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she chirped. 

“Oil change.” 

“You could easily do that yourself, Blake,” Raven tutted, already moving to grab the correct oil from the cart next to her. “Or have I taught you nothing?” 

“Well maybe I just wanted to see you,” Bellamy cooed, that charming grin still touching his lips. “Is that so hard to believe?” 

“Yes, actually,” Raven snorted, moving to open the hood and clipping it into place. “Keep this up and I'm gonna think you're in love with me.” 

“You wish, Reyes.” 

Raven stilled, her fingertips on the cap. “Maybe a little.” 

And it wasn't a lie; he was a great guy. Good looking, caring, and single. But he wasn't the Blake she wanted, much to her chagrin at that turn of events. 

“So I hear you got some wank bullshit with your bros next week,” Raven mentioned offhand from under the hood. 

“Wank bullshit?” 

“Your sister’s words, not mine.” 

Bellamy leant against the side of his truck, his boot kicked up on the front tire. “Just a boys night. Going to the Lakers game.” 

“And what, no invite?” Raven exclaimed. “I’m hurt.” 

“You hate basketball.” 

“True, but I like the cheerleaders,” Raven smirked, Bellamy shaking his head with a chuckle. 

“No argument there.”

Raven finished changing the oil, and dropped the hood back down with a dull click. “You're all set.”

Bellamy pulled out his wallet, thumbing through a few notes. “What do I owe you?” 

“It's an oil change, Bellamy. Not a refurb,” she quipped, wiping her hands on her rag. “It’s on the house.” He nodded with a smile, putting his money away. “But if you really want to pay me back, I wouldn't say no to a six-pack being left in your fridge next Friday night.” 

“And why’s that?” Bellamy quirked an eyebrow, putting his wallet back in his jean pocket. 

“Keeping your little sister company while you and Linc are getting drunk and watching sweaty men in tube socks put a ball through a hoop.” 

Bellamy let out a bark of laughter, it rumbling deep in his chest. “That I can do, Reyes.” 

He opened his truck door, pulling himself into the driver’s seat. He rolled down the window, Raven stepping up and leaning on the sill. She was thoughtful for a moment, as he clipped in his seatbelt. “Was it Wells?”

“What?” He was only confused for a second, before his head tipped back against the rest, a groan leaving his lips. “No. It wasn’t Wells.” 

Raven grimaced playfully. “Darn it.” 

“Look, it was just a guy from Lincoln’s fraternity. You don't know him.” 

She paused a moment, mulling over the new information. “...he hot?” 

Bellamy grinned at that, letting out a far off sigh. “Think Jessie Williams, only cuter.” 

Raven rolled her eyes, “Whatever. You'll always love me the most.” 

Bellamy just smirked, leaning out the open window and pecking her cheek. “Thanks for the oil.” 

She stepped down off the truck as he backed out of the driveway, the setting sun shining in her eyes. Bellamy had just hit the main road when Sinclair came back from his office, a clipboard and a stack of invoices in his hand. 

“That’s coming out of your pay check, Reyes,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off his paperwork as he walked past. 

“Simmer down, Boss. We both know you wouldn’t get _half_ the amount of work around here if it wasn’t for me.” 

“And you accuse me of arrogance.” 

“What can I say?” she shrugged, moving back to the Honda. “I’m growing as a person.”

* * *

Raven had been home nearly an hour. She was sitting at the breakfast bar, sorting through a pack of Skittles on the kitchen counter. She was pushing them gently into separate colours, the methodical task taking her mind off the dull ache in her leg. Usually she’d be joining Monty and Jasper on the couch, the two playing Xbox and sipping Red Bulls. But her leg had been bothering her – a result of standing at work too long – Raven moving from the couch to stretch it out. 

The sun was begin to set through the sheer curtains and Raven still hadn’t changed out of her grease-covered overalls, the shoulders hanging low on her hips, and the sleeves tide loosely around her waist. 

She popped a few of the green Skittles in her mouth as her phone buzzed next to her, the caller ID making her smile. She swallowed her current mouthful, before swiping to answer it. “What’s up?” 

 _“Get dressed. Lexa’s invited us all to her bar tonight. Which means cheap drinks.”_ She could hear the distraction in Clarke’s voice; Raven imagining her putting on mascara as she spoke – forever the multi-tasker. _“…and Anya will be there.”_  

There was a playful lilt to her voice, Raven throwing another handful of Skittles in her mouth. “What are you playing, Griffin?” 

 _“Nothing.”_  

“Okay, that’s bullshit. You meddle, it’s what you do.” 

Raven honestly hadn’t thought about Anya the past few days. But now at the mention of her name it had her smiling a little despite everything else going on.

She was weak. 

 _“Are you saying you don’t want to go?”_ she challenged.

Clarke knew she had her. From the moment the words left her lips. She knew Raven wouldn’t back down now. She knew it would work. Clarke Griffin, ladies and gentlemen. 

Raven smirked, thankful her best friend couldn’t see her. “I never said that.” 

 _“Then I’ll pick you up in an hour. We’re pre-drinking at Octavia and Bell’s place.”_ Raven’s stomach flipped at that. _“Look hot.”_  

“Always do.”

The line went dead as Raven closed out of the call, putting her phone back on the kitchen bench. 

“What was that about?” Monty peered over the back of the couch. “Hot date?” 

“It was just Clarke. We’re all heading out to her girlfriend’s bar tonight. Do you guys wanna join?” Raven asked, knowing the answer already. 

“Nah, I think we’re good,” he murmured, his attention back on his screen. “Me and Jas are only two levels off the next prestige.” 

“Let me know how that goes,” she smiled, watching Monty hit yet another kill streak.

“Since when does Griff have a girlfriend?” Jasper voiced, distracted.

“You two _really_ need to come out with us more,” Raven said in lieu of an answer, retreating inside the bathroom to strip off her overalls. 

“Bring me back someone nice,” Jasper called from the living room. 

Raven just chuckled, closing the door behind her with a click.

* * *

Clarke’s X5 pulled up outside her apartment exactly an hour later, dance music rumbling out of the car’s speakers and Clarke’s hand pressed tightly to the horn. Raven was so getting a noise complaint come morning – she figured it was Clarke’s pay back. She was giggling to herself as Raven hopped in the passenger side, turning down the stereo to a respectable level, before speeding off down the street.

Raven had chosen her tightest skinny jeans and a top that showed off the perfect amount of cleavage. It hung low on her back, exposing the black raven tattoo that covered the smattering of scars that lined her skin. A dozen of the birds were perched on a lifeless tree, the roots stretching from below her waistband and up her spine. She’d gotten the piece done a few years back. It was perfect. Raven honestly loved the idea of having an unkindness of ravens covering up the evidence of a not so kind childhood – she was weak for a good pun. 

But it was in no way for Octavia. The ripped jeans. The revealing top. Her straight hair, loose around her shoulders. Definitely not.

Maybe a little for Anya. She was big enough to admit that.

When the two of them arrived, Bellamy and Lincoln were watching basketball on the widescreen while Octavia was still getting ready in her bedroom. Clarke didn’t waste any time, jumping on the couch between them. The Clippers were her team, and she was getting even more riled up than Bellamy and Lincoln put together at the state of the score. 

Raven had left her red-faced and yelling 30 minutes ago, wandering into Octavia’s room with a beer in hand, having no interest in the game. She was more of a football girl – the 49ers, the Pats. 

She was sitting on the edge of Octavia’s bed, flipping lazily through a Sports Illustrated magazine, while Octavia was over by her vanity, hair straightener switched on and her makeup scattered over her dresser. 

The room screamed Octavia. 

She cleaned it once a week, but the next day it would just go back to the way it was. Clean clothes strewn about the floor, shoes under her bed and in front of the wardrobe, her skateboard propped near the door. Her bed was rarely made, and a photo board hung on the wall to which you could no longer see the cork. 

It was kind of perfect. 

“Do you like her?” 

It was said so suddenly and unprovoked that it took Raven a moment to register the words, her hand pausing on the open page to look up at Octavia. She’d said it almost as if she’d wanted to ask the question for a while. Like it was on the tip of her tongue waiting to be said. 

“Do I like who?” 

Raven knew whom she meant. She was just trying to fill the silence. Or avoid the question for a breath longer.

Octavia wetted her lips, not meeting her eye. “That woman, Anya. I hear she’s gonna be there tonight.” 

Raven shrugged, watching her carefully. “Yeah, I like her.” There was no point in lying. It was obvious to both of them. Raven closed the magazine, sitting up straighter. “Does that bother you?” 

It was a dangerous question to ask. The _conversation_ was dangerous. Much like all their conversations of late. That nervous energy was hanging between them, clouding them and pushing them further toward the edge. But that had never stopped Raven before – shame for her to start now.

Octavia rested her hip on the dresser, unscrewing the top of her mascara. “Should it?” 

“You tell me.” 

Octavia was quiet a moment, before turning back to the mirror. “I told you,” she murmured, glancing at Raven in the reflection, her voice strained. “It kills me.” 

She brought the brush up to her eyelashes, her lips pressed in a hard line. And Raven just stared. It was the first time either of them had acknowledged anything to do with that night or what was said between them. It was a jarring reminder that it was real, Raven’s nerves burning hot and heavy.

She opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ , just as Clarke barged in and flopped down on the bed next to her. 

“We lost,” Clarke huffed, her head falling back against the comforter. “Fuck my life.” 

“Bummer.” 

Raven was still looking at Octavia, Clarke switching her gaze between them as Octavia cleared her throat. “So where’s pool girl?”

“Working. She’ll hang out with us on her break though.”

Raven could feel Clarke’s eyes burning a hole in the side of her head. They held that look, the one that said _I heard everything and interrupted you two on purpose to save your ass from saying something stupid._  

A look really could say a thousand words when it came to Clarke Griffin. 

Octavia dropped her mascara into her makeup bag, and with a parting word left the room to retrieve a pair of heels from the spare bedroom.

Clarke flipped onto her stomach as soon as she was out of earshot. “What the hell are you two doing?”

“What?” Raven continued flipping through the articles, feigning innocence.

“Her _boyfriend_ is down the hall, Raven. So probably best to keep your lady boners to yourselves for five minutes.”

“Okay, I came here to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” 

“Raven,” Clarke reasoned. “I’m serious.” 

“What? Nothing happened,” Raven assured, her eyes on her magazine. “And that’s not exactly the worst thing you could have barged in on this week.” 

That caught her attention, Clarke giving her an imploring look.

Raven glanced towards the open door, keeping her voice low. “We might have been close to doing something in your guesthouse the other night.” 

Clarke’s eyes widened in shock. “Raven.”

“Don’t worry. A Harper shaped bell saved us from making that little mistake,” she muttered. “Unfortunately.”

She wasn’t bitter. 

She wasn’t. 

Clarke sighed, pulling herself closer and resting her head in Raven’s lap. “You weren’t wrong.” 

“I’m always right, Griffin. But I’ll bite.”

“When you said I was screwed,” she provided evenly. “I was. And not just figuratively.” 

“Thank you for that charming visual,” Raven said, her voice chipper. “I can sleep tight tonight.” 

“You’re welcome,” Clarke chuckled. “ _But_ I have to say,” she pressed on, looking up at Raven. “So are you, babe.” 

“…I know,” she mumbled after a tense breath, the joking completely drained from her voice. Her fingers brushed gently through blonde curls, “And not in the fun way that you are.” 

Clarke groaned playfully at her words, “So much fun.”

* * *

Lincoln was their designated driver. And come half past nine, they were all packed into his four-door Nissan, the three girls in the backseat, while Bellamy rode shotgun.

Clarke had taken the middle. It was under the guise of wanting to reach the radio, but Raven knew better. She’d caught the look on her face as she slid into the car; that raised eyebrow and subtle grin. 

Raven knew it was safer that way, safer to keep her distance, especially with the car’s current occupants. But it didn’t stop Octavia’s eyes from wandering, or for that nervous energy to become almost stifling in the small confines of the backseat. 

Bellamy and Lincoln hadn’t batted an eye. But Clarke had been positively gleeful, turning her head subtly in Raven’s direction. “Never again are you allowed to comment about me and Lexa,” she whispered discreetly. “Because this is just ridiculous.” 

“Shut the hell up, Griffin,” Raven ground out. Her eyes were on the darkened streets flashing by, the music that filled the car muffling her words – her best friend could really pick her moments. 

“Can I get pregnant from this?” 

The jibe earned Clarke a sharp elbow to the ribs and silence for the rest of the drive. 

They were meeting Miller, Wells, and Murphy at the bar, the boys messaging ahead that they’d arrived and snagged them a table. They pulled in just after ten, the four of them already feeling relaxed, doing tequila shots at the apartment before they left. 

The bar was small, and from the outside appeared as just a plain black door and darkened windows. A symbol hung over the entrance, like a brushed ornate wheel, with no name or any other signage. Lincoln had asked Clarke several times if it was the right place, Clarke certain, Lincoln only assured once they spotted Lexa’s bike in the lot across the street. 

Lexa was standing behind the mahogany bar when they entered, greeting them all with a gentle nod and a quick kiss to Clarke over the countertop. The place was dark, smelling of aged wood and expensive rum, the bar’s backlights glowing and throwing her face into shadow.

She was working the small crowd with another girl, her long braids wound into a bun at the back of her neck and a silver ring piercing her nose. She had a wicked smile and lively eyes, with minimalistic tattoos dotting her dark skin, reminding Raven of the constellation tattoo Clarke had on her ribs.

She looked close to their age, moving easily around Lexa to serve Bellamy and Lincoln further down the bar. She was gorgeous, if Raven was being completely honest. 

“Her name’s Luna,” Clarke provided over the thrum of music, following Raven’s eye line as they leant against the counter. “She’s Lexa’s roommate.” 

“Well, sign me the hell up for your next sleepover.” 

Seriously, why were all of Lexa’s friends so good looking? 

Anya was already there too, sitting at the end of the bar, a dark drink in her hand and her eyes greeting all the new arrivals. And Raven was floored. She was wearing black skinny jeans, and a loose white singlet, her leather boots making Raven a little weak, and her dark blonde hair in soft waves. 

Raven wasn’t going to say it, but she looked good. 

And it wasn’t just the sight of her that was awe-inspiring. The bar itself was amazing. The alcohol selection was top shelf, Raven suddenly glad they were getting them at a cheaper rate by the look of all the unfamiliar labels. A dark red pool table was sitting to one corner, with old-school booths and dry bars lining the walls, and mood lighting hanging low over the tables. 

It was nothing like the dive bar Raven had expected when she first got the invite. 

Miller waved them over after they’d ordered their drinks to a booth and a nearby table. Anya stayed near the bar, talking with Lexa when she wasn’t busy, and people watching when she was. She appeared to know a few of the regulars, chatting with them on and off.

Raven kept looking over at her, Anya providing a nice distraction; especially from all the quiet looks Octavia was sending her.

She was sitting next to her at the booth, with Lincoln on her other side. And even with all their friends crowding around them and close, the energy from the car still managed to cloud her senses. Raven took a long sip of her drink and tried to concentrate on the conversations around her, and not on the warmth of Octavia’s skin or the intoxicating scent of her perfume – it was truly a feat.

They chatted amongst themselves, Raven joining in on Bellamy and Miller’s discussion on the camping trip they were planning as an end to the summer. It was a tradition. They took two cars a little further up the coast for the last three days before they all went their separate ways. They’d started it senior year of high school, before orientation week began, and they hadn’t missed one since – although Raven suspected this year that number would have grown from just the core six. 

It wasn’t long before everyone was getting a step past tipsy with another round of shots being placed down at their table. Everyone except Octavia, who was still very much underage, though Raven had seen her sneaking sips of Bellamy's whiskey under the table. Luna set them out on the varnished wood, downing one herself, before taking the tray and wandering back behind the long bar. Raven watched her leave, Luna giving them a departing smirk. 

It had been so long since Raven had gotten drunk, feeling a happy smile touch her lips. She downed her small shot, the burn hitting her stomach and heating her skin. 

“Clarke, I think I’m in love with your girlfriend,” Murphy grinned, downing his free shot. 

“Get in line,” Raven laughed, sipping her rum and coke, Clarke grinning happily at her roommate. 

“To Lexa,” Murphy cheered, raising his tiny glass. 

“To Lexa.” 

Everyone tipped their glasses toward the bar, a chorus of cheers emanating from their table. Lexa caught the gesture and inclined her head with a soft smile, continuing to mix drinks for the couple in front of her. It was getting crowded, the group glad they’d come early to snag the tables. Though Raven didn’t doubt that Lexa could have worked her magic to get them the booth either way. 

She appeared to be in her element, wearing a tight black singlet and skinnies that showed off the bright cherry blossom tattoo that covered her bicep. And her friend wasn’t any different, Luna showing off for a crowd at the end of the bar – it was actually incredible to watch.

“Dance with me.”

Octavia slid her hand into Raven’s, causing her breath to catch in her throat. It felt amazing, the contact making her head swim. It was past midnight, the group having been at the bar for well over two hours. 

Clarke was now by the pool table with the boys, versing Lexa in a not so friendly game. She was on break, Anya moving behind the bar with Luna to help her out for half an hour. 

“That sounds like a bad idea.” 

Octavia edged closer, whispering in her ear, “Probably.” 

Raven shivered. She knew she shouldn’t. That it was indeed an incredibly bad idea. But if there was one thing Raven knew, she could never say no to Octavia. Especially when she was this close, and smelled this good. And coupled with the alcohol already in her system, she had about zero self-control when it came to Octavia. 

“Lead the way, pretty girl.” 

Bodies upon bodies were dancing and grinding to the heavy beat of the music. Raven tried to keep her distance, to keep in control. She did. But the way Octavia was moving was making it impossible, and Raven found herself putting her hands in places they shouldn’t be, and Octavia didn’t stop her, her hands wandering as well. And in the dim lights of the bar, it almost felt real. Like this could be it. That Octavia could be hers. 

So Raven let everything go, dancing close, hands pulling at hips, and fingertips tracing soft skin.

She gave in. 

But like always, all good things came to an end. They always did. And maybe this was just _too_ good, Lincoln wandering over from the pool table to stand behind Octavia. 

And just like that the spell was broken. Hands dropped from hips, and distance was placed between them. And it was like the guesthouse all over again. Too much, too soon, and ending far too quickly. 

Raven excused herself, leaving for the bar to grab another drink, ignoring the ache in her chest or the disheartened look on Octavia’s face. 

Lexa was back working, nodding at her in greeting, “Rum and coke?” 

“How about something a little stronger?” 

Lexa grabbed the bottle of Kraken from the back wall, topping it up with the mixer and placing it gingerly in front of Raven. 

“Really?” Raven deadpanned, staring at the offending drink.

“As your best friend’s girlfriend, I’d give you shots,” she reasoned evenly. “But as your bartender and pseudo therapist, no shots for you.”

Raven huffed, taking the rum and coke, Lexa smirking and wiping down the counter with a dishtowel. She tucked the rag into the back of her jeans and leant against the mahogany counter, silent for a moment. Like she was gauging Raven. Or reading her. Or both. 

“I’ve been told I’m a great listener.” 

“You seem to be told a lot of things, Woods,” Raven chuckled around a sip of her drink. “And aren’t all bartenders?” 

Lexa didn’t respond. She watched Raven closely, waiting for her to choose whether or not to talk. Raven wasn’t even sure what she would say if she could. Everything seemed to just be a complete mess. One she couldn’t make sense of, and one that everyone seemed to be getting caught in. Octavia, Lincoln, Clarke. Hell, even Bellamy. 

And now Lexa. 

But those eyes were still watching her calmly, making Raven want to unravel – the profession really did suit her. 

“We acknowledged the elephant,” Raven settled on, playing with her straw and not meeting her eye. 

“You and Octavia?” 

“Yep,” Raven chirped. “We said hello, gave it a high five, and then adopted him and named him Fredrick.” 

Lexa slid a shot in front of her, “You really do need this.” 

Raven took it gratefully and downed it, the whiskey burning pleasantly. 

“And now I’m not sure we should have. Everything is just so screwed up. It should be awkward. We should be avoiding each other. Instead we skipped awkward and went straight to UST.” 

“UST?” Lexa quirked a perfect eyebrow, her palms resting against the bar. 

“Unresolved Sexual Tension.” 

Lexa pressed her lips together, thoughtful. She leant in closer to Raven, “And while Lincoln is still in the picture, it will remained unresolved, correct?” 

“…right.” 

“Because as your friend I don’t think I have to tell you all the reasons why that is a royally bad idea.” She looked at her earnestly, “Do I?” 

“No.” 

Lexa poured her another shot and placed it down in front of her. 

Raven eyed it. “But as my bartender?” 

“As your bartender,” Lexa contemplated, with a slight lift of her shoulders. “People fuck up. That’s life…but sometimes it’s worth it.” She gave her a wink, before moving off down the bar.

Raven laughed, shaking her head as she took the second shot. 

“Drowning your sorrows, Reyes?” 

Raven looked over to find Anya sitting at the end of the bar in the same spot where she’d been for most of the night. She had a near empty glass in her hand and that slight lilt to her lips.

“Something like that.” 

Anya got to her feet and moved to sit next to her. “My sister shouldn’t encourage you.” 

“No, she shouldn’t. But as my best friend’s girlfriend, she’s a true gem.” 

Raven raised her rum and coke in cheers, before taking a lengthy sip to chase away the taste of the shot. She was definitely getting past just a step. 

Those dark eyes watched her carefully, “I remember that feeling.”

“Really?” Raven enquired, her tone dry. “’Cause I’m trying my best to forget it.”

“Well, let me know if you want help with that.”

“And how exactly would you do that?” 

Anya stood, getting so close that Raven could smell her perfume, like something earthy and entirely too intoxicating. “I think you’re a smart enough girl to figure that one out on your own.” 

She gave her a parting smirk, before leaving Raven at the bar and disappearing amongst the crowd. 

“Holy shit.” 

* * *

Raven was definitely drunk. 

Her limbs felt loose, and she couldn’t quite control her tongue. She’d always been good at holding her liquor. It just seemed to make her more honest, and have her find things funnier then they probably actually were. Which in retrospect wasn’t all that different to when she was sober. 

After Anya had left, she’d re-joined Clarke in the booth with Wells. She’d hugged Raven close with that Clarke smile, the one only reserved for her, before turning back to Wells and continuing a debate that Raven didn’t even bother trying to contribute to. It was something political and drawn out – her best friend could be such a nerd at times.

Miller and Bellamy were occupying the pool table with Murphy, while Octavia was still on the dance floor with Lincoln. 

Raven’s mind kept going back to Anya’s words every time he moved too close, or his lips pressed to places that had her averting her gaze. Because the truth was she really did need help. She needed a reprieve from the constant ache in her chest, and the thrumming of her heart every time she even looked at Octavia. 

She needed her Thursday. 

“Starting to think bathrooms might be our thing.” 

Octavia’s voice pulled Raven out of her thoughts. It was playful, Raven turning and leaning against the row of sinks. She’d retreated inside the bathroom, fixing her makeup in the large mirror and generally avoiding the world outside the door. 

“Yeah?” Raven ventured with a small smile. “All we need now is Clarke or Harper to walk in on us and we’ve hit the trifecta.”

Octavia stayed by the door. “It should probably be Lexa next, for variety sake.” 

“She’s due for another break soon.” 

Octavia giggled at that, and moved to the sink next to Raven. And Raven just stared. Her gaze flicked over the glazed look of her eyes, and the light sheen on the back of her neck. The parting of her lips.

She just stared. 

“What _are_ we doing, O?” 

Octavia glanced at her with a questioning look, her hands stilling under the run of water. It was something that she'd needed to ask. With Lexa's words looming over her, and that elephant breathing down their necks, she just needed it. And she liked Lincoln. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want to be the cause of that heartbreak.

That wasn't her.

Raven wetted her lips. “I mean you touch me like it actually means more than it really does. You dance with me like it’s me you’re with, and not him,” Raven murmured. “And I, I let you do it all the same.”

Octavia let out a heavy breath, but she still had that Octavia smile about her. “I have no idea. Every since Gus’ I can’t stop thinking about you.” Raven’s breath caught at that, butterflies bursting in her stomach. “And it’s _really_ inconvenient to say the least since I have a boyfriend and all,” she laughed, humourless. 

That put Raven’s smirk back in place, it was a little sad but it was there. “Well when you _do_ know, I’m all ears.” She took a step closer, readying herself for the words she needed to say. The ones that were needed, not the ones she wanted. “But until then, we should probably steer clear of bathrooms. Or anywhere with limited exits.” 

Octavia just bit her lip, nodding to herself. 

Raven placed a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. “See you out there, O.”

And with that she left, Octavia watching her go.

It wasn’t long after that Lincoln was rounding everyone up to head home. Last drinks were being called, and the crowd on the dance floor was beginning to thin. 

Lexa and Luna were clearing up behind the bar, stacking glasses and returning spirits to the wall. Clarke was on a barstool part way down the bar, drawing on stray napkins with a black pen and flicking the tiny masterpieces at the two of them with a giggle – she loved Clarke Griffin so much. 

Raven had sobered up somewhat, her mind clearer. Or maybe that was just the lack of Octavia, her friend leaving with Lincoln and the rest of the boys. Murphy had been hanging off of Bellamy, Wells helping them both into the back seat of the Nissan with Miller, before hailing a cab to his side of town. 

When Raven had come out of the bathroom, she’d made her way back over to Anya. They didn’t talk, and something told Raven that Anya knew they didn’t need to. They just drank in silence; Raven tasting that Lexa was serving her Coke sans the rum for the past two rounds, part of her thankful. 

She played with her straw, nudging the remaining ice cubes in her glass, her mind on Octavia. “What you said earlier…” 

“Yes?” Anya prompted. They’d been silent for sometime, the five girls the only ones left in the bar. 

Anya gave her an innocent look, it causing Raven to blush, and duck her head. 

Why was she always like this around pretty faces? 

Anya chuckled softly, taking the lead. “I have my son to worry about. I can’t let anyone into his life that’s not going to stick around for the long haul,” she began, nodding gently. “But I’m here if you need a momentary distraction.” 

“Momentary distraction?” 

Raven couldn’t deny how appealing that sounded. How appealing Anya sounded right now.

Anya glanced down at her lips, a deep fire burning in those dark irises. And Raven was gone, before Anya even began to lean in. 

The kiss was tentative and soft, Raven taking her bottom lip into her mouth and sucking gently. Hands landed on thighs as she teetered on the edge of her bar stool. Raven didn’t even register the other three girls. Numb to the wolf whistling and the playful teasing, letting Anya take her to a small office out the back and locking the door behind them.

“Are we even allowed back here?” Raven questioned as Anya lifted her easily onto a desk scattered with papers.

“Well you would hope, since I own the place.” 

Raven laughed, her arms coming up to wrap around strong shoulders, letting her mind go blank. 

It was nice. Fun even. 

But Anya didn’t make her ache, at least not in the way Raven craved. That heart stopping and breathless kind of ache. Because Anya wasn’t Octavia. And Anya didn’t pretend to be. 

She was her Thursday.

And Octavia was a certain thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was written prior to 313, so I see Luna as Zoe Kravitz in this verse.
> 
> Come say hi: hedabecca.tumblr.com


	3. Part III

“Red or blue?”

“Green.”

“Raven,” Clarke chided.

“Sorry, what were we talking about?” Raven grinned, before dodging the red _Coca Cola_ singlet Clarke had just thrown at her.

Clarke slipped on the _Pepsi_ tee, pulling it down over the waistband of her ripped denim shorts. “Where’s your head, space cadet?”

They were in the change room of a vintage clothing store just off the beachfront; Raven sitting on the corner stool while Clarke was trying on clothes. Her best friend was looking at her with concern lighting her blue eyes. The same look Raven had seen countless times, and more increasingly over the past few months - Raven knew the reason why, but she chose to ignore it no matter how glaringly obvious it was to everyone.

“Have you heard from her?” Raven edged, trying for nonchalance. 

It didn’t land.

“Who?” Clarke questioned, eyeing her in the reflection. “Anya?”

Raven’s brow furrowed. “What? Why would you hear from Any-”

But Raven caught her tongue when she saw the smirk pulling at the corner of Clarke’s lips. “Asshole.”

“No, I haven’t,” Clarke provided. She removed the shirt and added it to the growing pile near her feet, leaving her in just a bra and shorts. “But you're seeing her Friday, right?”

Raven nodded, absently folding the clothes Clarke had been steadily piling on top of her.

Clarke turned back to the rack, flicking through the shirts still sitting neatly on their hangers. "She's coming with us to the skate park this afternoon. Don’t worry so much. She's probably just been busy with surf lessons or something.”

Raven tried to take Clarke’s words to heart, but it had been nearly a week and she’d barely received a Snapchat or a simple text message from Octavia. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t asked for. Raven _had_ asked for it, and in no uncertain terms. For space. For time for them both to figure things out.

It was just…different not hearing from her.

Clarke pulled the next shirt from its coat hanger. It was a worn grey Henley that showed off an impressive amount of cleavage – but honestly, what shirt didn’t.

“So,” Clarke ventured. “How _were_ things with Anya?”

Raven heard the bell on the front door and the sound of someone talking to the sales attendant as she thought back. She shrugged lightly, her hands still folding methodically. “Things were good.”

Clarke bit her tongue around another smirk that Raven could see was trying to break from her lips.

“What?”

“Come on, Raven. The moaning was a little hard to block out.”

Raven groaned, tipping her head back. “It was fun, okay. But-”

“She's not Octavia?” Clarke smiled sadly.

“Yeah,” Raven sighed.

Was it that obvious?

Clarke turned back to the mirror, adjusting her sleeves. “I’m gonna get this. It makes my boobs look good.”

“Your boobs always look good.”

Raven wiggled her eyebrows at her, earning a giggle from Clarke and another t-shirt to the face.

“And you call me a perv.”

* * *

“That’s the money shot, right there.”

“Screw off, Raven,” Jasper grumbled, dusting off his knees.

“Aden, take note. That is how not to do it,” Lexa commented lightly.

Raven laughed even harder as Jasper got to his feet, Monty walking over with his board in hand. He passed it off to Jasper, placing a comforting hand to his shoulder. “Next time, buddy.”

Jasper merely huffed, dropping his scuffed board to the cement and pushing off to the other side of the park with Monty on his heels.

The sun was shining low in the sky, spreading an orange glow over the polished plywood ramps and dancing off the waves in the distance. The sound of wheels scratching across concrete and boards grinding on metal mixed with the seagulls that squawked on the beach in front of them, the skate park bordering the white sand.

It was peaceful, and somewhat of a safe haven for the group of friends. They’d been coming to the park since freshman year, and was the place Raven had first laid eyes on Octavia, all grazed knees and fearless. They’d spend hours wasting away the days, and soaking up the sun.

Octavia was sitting next to Raven on the worn picnic table, laughing softly and nudging her shoulder.

“So the boys are heading off at around six for the game, so any time around there you can come over,” Octavia said with a shy set to her lips, glancing at Raven.

“Sounds good,” Raven nodded, gripping the flaking bench with both hands.

The nervous energy was back between them, but it was more excitable, Raven feeling butterflies in her stomach, rather than that persistent ache.

It felt new somehow. Like they’re conversation in the bathroom had taken the edge off, and what was left was just shy smiles and hesitant glances. It wasn’t the awkwardness she expected, but Raven really shouldn’t have been surprised at that point - nothing had been what she expected when it came to Octavia so far.

It was awkward that it wasn't awkward.

Octavia bit her lip. It was soft, and lovely, and nervous, before looking away. “Hey kid, c’mere,” she called to Aden, standing up from the table. “I want to show you something.”

Aden jumped up from where he was sitting near the edge of the bowl, watching Jasper and Monty skate the adjacent half pipe. Octavia pulled him aside on a flat stretch of concrete; placing her own board down and showing him a flip trick Raven had seen her perfect when she was only a year or two older than Aden.

Raven watched them both, leaning back on her palms. Octavia was wearing a loose white singlet and a red flannel tied around her waist, her smile bright, making Raven’s heart skip slightly at the sight.

She could remember watching Octavia for hours when they were younger. Miller joining her in the bowl while Raven doubled Bellamy on his mountain bike. Wells keeping Clarke company while she graffitied the cement with her art. It was a time Raven could easily go back to; the endless summers of high school. Things were simpler back then. And it made Raven wonder when things started to get so complicated.

Clarke was over by one of the low brick walls that surrounded the park, finishing a mural she was commissioned by the park owner at the start of the summer. Spray paint cans surrounded the pavement where she sat cross-legged, her brow furrowed in concentration as she applied the finishing touches.

It was of a huge and intricate space station that took up the entire wall, with a galaxy of stars behind it. Blues, and purples, and shades of black framed the bright white constellations and made them appear as if they were shining against the late afternoon sun.

Her best friend was crazy talented, Raven knew that. But knowing it and seeing it were always vastly different things when it came to Clarke Griffin.

“Can I ask you something?”

Raven looked over at Lexa. She was sitting on the ground next to the table, those green grey eyes watching Aden and Octavia, as she rocked gently back and forth on her longboard.

“Shoot.”

“When did it happen?” Her voice was soft and thoughtful, Lexa glancing at Raven. “Fredrick,” she prompted with a small twitch of her lips.

Raven looked back at Octavia, her fingertips running over the chipped wood of the picnic table. Octavia’s whole face was lit up with that smile; Aden’s matching hers as he stumbled on his board.

“Last summer,” Raven murmured after a time. “We’d grabbed a bottle of Jack from Bell’s liquor stash and climbed to the roof. Just the two of us.”

“Romantic.”

Raven rolled her eyes, but found herself smiling at the memory. “I remember looking at her that night and it just…clicked. Like a part of me had always known, and it had just taken a while for my brain to catch up. Which is saying something.”

“And why not say something?”

“Apart from being absolutely terrified that I had feelings for her?” Raven laughed, her brow raised in amusement. Lexa’s answering smile was quiet, the setting sun lighting her tanned skin. “She’d just broken up with her boyfriend at the time. It’s why we went up there. Drinking ourselves into oblivion.”

It had become something that was theirs after that night. Whenever life dealt them a bad card, they would go to the roof and watch the stars. It made their problems feel small in the expanse of the night sky. Raven only wished she could do the same for Octavia – it was hard to work out your problems when your problem was lying right next to you.

Lexa nodded thoughtfully, her attention moving back to her nephew and to their current topic of conversation.

Octavia was perched on a nearby railing, giving pointers to Aden, and correcting the angle of his board and the placement of his feet. Raven knew she was going to make an amazing teacher someday. She had just finished her first year of education at UCLA, and Raven could see her already, surrounded by kids, clipboard and whistle in hand.

It was all kinds of perfect.

Growing up the six of them had been inseparable, all applying to the university when it came time. But Wells had ended at North Western, and Miller had set off to NYU with his boyfriend, Bryan.

But the four of them were enough to make it feel like home.

“So why not since?” Lexa asked, continuing to rock gently on her board. “That was what, eight months before Lincoln?”

“Did I mention the absolutely terrified part?”

“You may have.”

Raven sighed, swallowing the lump that had formed at the top of her throat. “We’d been close for years, so no amount of hinting did any good. I was always just Raven to her. Her big brother’s best friend.”

Lexa was about to respond when Clarke wandered back over with her crate of spray paint, placing it down on the picnic table, and hopping up next to Raven. Her paint mask was hanging loose around her neck, her fingertips stained purple and blue.

“For you,” Clarke grinned, wiping them on Raven’s bare forearm.

“Thanks.”

 _“De nada,”_ Clarke giggled, linking an arm through Raven’s to interlace their fingers.

“Well I hardly think she sees you that way now,” Lexa commented.

“Who we talking about?”

“Octavia,” Lexa provided for Clarke’s benefit, her girlfriend nodding gently.

“Doesn’t matter. I think we’re gonna try the whole not being alone together thing for a while.”

Clarke snorted, Raven pulling back to look at her. “I’m sorry, but probably should’ve thought about that before you agreed to keep her company this Friday, don’t you think?”

“…shit.”

Butterflies and something akin to nausea settled in Raven’s stomach, as Clarke stood. She moved to sit behind Lexa on her longboard, wrapping her arms around her slim waist.

“Good luck with that,” Lexa said, looking thoroughly amused as Raven’s nerves continued to prickle her skin. “Truly.”

“What happened to it being a royally bad idea, Woods?”

_It totally is._

Lexa shrugged, her arms resting atop Clarke’s as she leant back against her. “I always was a better bartender.”

“Aunt Lexa,” Aden called, stealing their attention. “Come look at this trick Octavia just showed me.”

Lexa shifted in Clarke's embrace. “Duty calls.”

Clarke whined, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Lexa’s neck before letting her arms go slack.

Clarke watched her leave, Lexa walking over and ruffling Aden’s hair. “Seriously though, Raven.” Clarke looked on, her expression sobering. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Raven paused for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip. Her eyes were on Octavia, that smile still lighting up her face – god, she was beautiful. “I didn’t want to lose my best friend.”

“Naww, babe,” Clarke frowned. “You could never lose me. I’m like that rash you got in freshman dorm.”

Raven groaned, her eyes falling shut. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You love me.”

* * *

Raven was thankful she had shifts at the garage the next few days. It kept her mind occupied and hands busy. Things were always simpler when she was under the hood of a car – pulling apart engine blocks, and replacing piston rings and rewiring taillights. It was methodical, and centred her in a way nothing else could.

And anything that distracted Raven from her Friday plans was welcomed.

She tried not to dwell on the fact it was going to be the first time all summer that she would have Octavia alone. There had always been someone, in the next room or outside the door. Stopping her from doing something reckless or stupid. Something she knew she shouldn’t do. She felt that nervous buzzing at the prospect – the flutter in heart chest, and the tingling in her fingertips.

Raven had taken an afternoon shift at the garage on the Friday. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Things had been good with Octavia when they’d left the skate park, great even, Octavia choosing to come back to her apartment for the night instead of heading home.

The drive had been filled with more shy glances and hesitations. It had caused Raven’s grip to tighten on her steering wheel, her knuckles turning lighter with the strain. Monty and Jasper rode in the back, chatting happily, discussing a new line of boards that had just come into the skate shop where Jasper worked part-time. Octavia had perked up, joining in for the rest of the drive home.

They’d all ended up on the couch, playing video games and ordering enough pizza for six. And it was fun. Octavia had always gotten along with her roommates; out of her five friends, Octavia had formed the tightest bond with them. Raven suspected it had something to do with her and Jasper’s shared love of skateboarding. And Monty was Monty, he was hard not to love.

But her shift had only done so much for Raven’s nerves.

_God, I need another Thursday._

Bellamy and Lincoln were still there when Raven arrived, chatting lightly by the breakfast bar as they waited for their ride. Lincoln was clad in a Lakers singlet while Bellamy wore his Clippers snapback – his and Clarke's obsession with Blake Griffin never failed to amuse Raven. She appreciated the irony.

“Uber’s on its way,” Bellamy sighed, placing his phone down on the kitchen counter. “It’s just a few blocks from here.”

“What’d we get?” Lincoln asked around a sip of his beer.

“Some kind of Toyota, I think.”

The two of them settled into light conversation. It served as background, distracting Raven to the gentle proximity of Octavia. They were only using one end of the couch, Raven sitting against the armrest and Octavia occupying the middle.

It had Raven taking a lengthy sip of her own beer, her good leg jumping anxiously where it was propped on the coffee table.

_It’s just a movie night, Reyes. Chill._

Octavia began fiddling with the TV remote, selecting the next episode of Vikings, before tossing it aside.

Raven’s eyes were on the screen when they heard Bellamy’s message tone go off and the distance honking of a car horn. It pulled something deep in Raven’s stomach, those butterflies dancing against her ribcage.

“That’s us,” Lincoln stated, with that Lincoln smile that was sweet and charming at the same time – Raven honestly would be jealous of Octavia if she weren’t so busy being jealous of Lincoln.

He moved to peck Octavia’s lips over the back of the couch, Bellamy doing the same to Raven. He placed his hand gently over Raven’s lips, pressing his to the back of his knuckles, and humming lightly.

Raven groaned as he pulled his hand back. “Such a tease, Blake.”

Bellamy just chuckled, grabbing his wallet and keys from the glass bowl by the door – her affection for Bellamy was truly endless.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” Raven called from the couch.

“Don’t wait up,” Bellamy said in way of response, Lincoln smiling brightly beside him with his hand on the open door.

“You know we will,” Octavia grinned.

They waved them off, Bellamy locking the door behind them.

“And then there were two,” Octavia smiled, settling in, her knees tucked up to her chest.

Raven took another sip of her beer and propped her other leg up on the coffee table, stretching it out. It had been bothering her since her shift at the garage, Raven welcoming the night in. And for the most part it was easy to ignore the nervous energy in her stomach, the tingling and the butterflies, no matter how close Octavia was sitting to her on the couch, or how warm her skin felt pressed against her thigh. Because it was Octavia. She was her best friend. She was comfortable and warm, and her presence once all was said and done was calming for Raven, once she turned her mind off long enough and stopped overthinking.

“I would let Ragnar pillage my village any day,” Raven commented, her tone teasing.

They were well into the episode, the muscular Nord shirtless and sweating on screen. Raven would be lying if she wasn’t a little turned on.

“Pillage your village?” Octavia quirked an eyebrow at Raven.

“Lootie my bootie?” Raven tried again.

“Stop,” Octavia exclaimed, though Raven could see she was smiling in the dim light. “That’s even worse than first one.”

Raven chuckled lightly, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t go there.”

Octavia shrugged. “I prefer Lagertha," she murmured softly. "She looks like she’d be good with her hands.”

Raven nearly choked on her beer. 

_Oh my god._

She pursed her lips, wiping them gently with the back of her hand. But Octavia didn’t seem to notice Raven’s reaction, shifting slightly on the couch. “Pass the Nutella?”

Raven cleared throat, grabbing it from where it sat on the side table near her shoulder. “How the hell can you eat this and drink beer at the same time?”

Octavia took the offered tub. “It’s my teenage constitution.”

“God, I forget how young you are sometimes,” Raven teased. “You’re practically an infant.”

“And what does that make you?” Octavia quipped back.

“22.”

Octavia eyed Raven, before averting her gaze back to the TV, a shyness coming over her slight features. She took a generous spoonful of the spread and sucked on it lightly, before resting the jar on the coffee table amongst the open bag of crisps and the Skittles.

Raven tried to ignore the light throb between her legs at the sight and at Octavia’s words. She knew what Octavia meant. She knew she didn’t mean it innocently. It was teasing and suggestive, and back to what they used to be. But entertaining the idea that Octavia was flirting with her wasn’t something that helped the ache, or the tingling that was spreading over her skin.

_Just a movie night._

Octavia had just selected the next episode, when Raven’s phone vibrated next to her on the armrest. She picked it up and swiped it open, the sender making her lips quirk.

**[7:23 p.m.] Griffin: How’s the not being alone thing going?**

Octavia looked over curiously.

“It’s just Clarke.”

“What’s Griff want?” Octavia asked, eating a handful of MnMs.

“Just making sure she’s still the favourite,” Raven teased, as she typed out a response.

**[7:24 p.m.] Rey Reyes: Swimmingly**

**[7:24 p.m.] Rey Reyes: How’s the babysitting thing going?**

“And?” Octavia asked quietly. Her voice was hesitant, Octavia fiddling with her beer label. Raven had noticed that it was something she did when she was nervous, the implication making Raven’s stomach flutter.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Raven meant it to be teasing but it came out quiet and with little too much honesty in her tone.

Octavia stayed silent, looking back to the TV.

Raven didn’t know why, but it made her heart race and her palms sweat. Usually Octavia would tease her back, make a grab for her phone and spend the rest of the night shit talking Clarke until one of them caved or called truce. But the shy look that Octavia gave her was anything but typical.

**[7:27 p.m.] Griffin: Counting down the seconds til he falls asleep ;)**

**[7:27 p.m.] Rey Reyes: You’re the worst**

**[7:27 p.m.] Rey Reyes: I approve**

* * *

It was nearing the end of the third episode when Raven felt the first touch of Octavia’s fingers. It was light, the pads of fingertips lazily dragging across the bare skin of her left thigh, gentle patterns, making Raven shiver.

She had felt the warmth of Octavia’s skin since they’d taken up the couch. It had been a constant, like the steady thrumming in her chest and the hum of the voices on screen. But this touch had Raven pausing. It was purposeful. But it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before. It was natural and something that always happened when they were alone. But of course this was different. Everything was different now.

Octavia’s eyes were on the TV, her lips parted, and her stare almost absent. They’d switched off the lights after Bellamy and Lincoln had left for the game, the screen the only source of light in the small living room. It illuminated Octavia’s features just enough for Raven to be stunned into silence.

The pattern slowly became more daring, using the pads of fingertips and then the back of her nails in gentle succession. It made Raven’s skin burn hot, and had her biting her lip against another shiver that ran down her back.

She tried to continue watching. She tried. And failed.

Raven swallowed heavily, “O?”

“Shhh.”

It came out as a barely audible whisper, shaky and unsure. It brought Raven to silence again, her nails digging into the armrest of the couch, pressing into the rough fabric. It anchored her, that touch making her feel as if she would float away.

 _“Oh my god,”_ Raven hushed through clenched teeth, her eyes falling shut at the sensations caused by those fingers and that touch.

Octavia quietened her again, slowly moving her fingers up bare skin to the hem of Raven’s denim shorts. But when she moved to undo the top button, Raven had to hold back a whimper.

_“O?”_

Octavia’s eyes remained on the screen. But Raven’s were now on the hand slipping beneath rough material, fingers flat against her stomach. Raven had to stifle any shock at the daring move with her fist, mumbling her words against her knuckles. “O, I don’t think we should-”

“Stop thinking then.”

It was a breathless and nervous whisper, and it made Raven ache, her skin prickling and her throat turning thick.

It only took a lightest of grazes against Raven’s clit for her to lose all thought and pretence. Her mind was white noise and Octavia. Every minute touch and stroke of her fingers, hesitant and longing, had spasms of pleasure running all over Raven’s skin.

She tried to breathe evenly but each breath caught. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, Octavia’s slow circling driving her crazy.

A part of Raven knew they should stop. Knew that she should grab her hand and say it was wrong. Tell her it was reckless and stupid. But her words were stuck in her throat, caught on another moan.

Raven bit her lip, trying to keep in control of her body and not be a withering mess under those fingers. It was a battle she was slowly losing. Octavia’s fingers were like heaven, and she didn’t want them to stop. And she didn’t know why she kept silent, controlling her breathing, and swallowing her moans. But she kept herself in check, even though she wanted so desperately to fall apart.

“Should we keep going?”

“What?” Raven’s mouth was dry, her voice breaking around her question.

“The next episode?” Octavia’s voice was breathy and so hot, her head inclining to the screen. It was only then that Raven realised the episode credits were rolling.

Octavia’s fingers stilled as she said it, Raven’s whole body aching at the loss of rhythm.

“Or we could stop?”

Raven cleared her throat gently. “No, we can keep going.”

“Okay.”

Octavia looked back to the screen and selected the next episode as she started her rhythm again, and Raven had to bite back another whimper. The touch was making her so needy. She could feel the heat pooling low in her stomach, and wetting the thin material of her underwear, Raven moving her right thigh wider to adjust the angle of her hips.

Raven was already so close and so ready to fall. Her thighs had started to shake, Raven not able to hold on to her orgasm much longer. And Raven suddenly understood the term the small death. Everything ached, her whole body tensing and rolling into those fingers. It was a torture of the most blissful kind.

When it final hit her, Raven couldn’t help her hips from arching into Octavia’s hand, or from her own hand wrapping tightly around Octavia’s slender wrist, holding her there as those fingers continued to make her tremble.

Raven bit back her moan. She bit down on Octavia’s name, her orgasm coming out as a muffled groan through pursed lips, her head falling back against the couch.

_Holy fucking shit._

Raven’s body was still pulsing gently when Octavia removed her hand and casually dipped her fingers into the jar of Nutella. And Raven couldn’t do more than stare, Octavia slowly sucking off the chocolate, her eyes anywhere but on Raven.

_Yeah, small death sounds accurate._

* * *

Raven stirred, warm sunlight streaming in through the timber blinds and shining in her eyes. She groaned, burying her face into the soft white pillow, the smell familiar and comforting. It made her pull it further under her chin, shifting under the covers.

“Morning.”

Raven rolled over to be met with bright blue eyes and that smirk that was always way too cheery for the early hours.

“Hi,” Raven croaked. She needed coffee, and she needed Clarke to stop looking at her with that smirk.

Raven huffed, before mushing her face back into the pillow, trying to sink into it and forget about the state of her life.

“Okay, spill.”

Raven whined, but made no further attempt to respond. Maybe if she didn’t get up the world would stop, and the night before wouldn’t be real.

“When you metaphorically throw pebbles at my window at four in the morning, I get an explanation come daylight.” Clarke eyed her, Raven’s lips pressing into the white fabric. “How was your night with Octavia?”

“Eventful,” Raven mumbled vaguely.

Eventful. That was a word for it.

The boys had come home at 3 a.m., loud and drunk but harmless. Raven and Octavia were still watching Vikings when they’d stumbled in, Octavia barely able to keep her eyes open. But they’d both startled when a set of keys could be heard scratching messily against the door, and the not quite hushed whispers floated in from outside.

They hadn’t talked about it. Once Octavia had put distance between them, nothing else was said. They went back to watching the screen. But of course that was how it went. It always was.

Raven hadn’t waited long past everyone crashing before she’d snuck out.

Clarke didn’t question it when she’d shown up on her doorstep; she’d just grumbled into the receiver and trudged down to let Raven in.

A note was left for Octavia on the kitchen bench – feeding her a white lie about getting called into the garage early, knowing she wouldn’t see it until morning. Raven didn’t want Octavia to think it was anything she’d done, or that what they did had sent her running. It wasn’t that. Raven couldn’t sleep on that couch knowing who was in the room behind the thin walls, holding Octavia, falling asleep with her. Knowing that what had happen might just be another thing swept under the rug. Knowing what they'd done, and that Octavia wasn't hers to touch. The guilt of it. She couldn’t.

Clarke was about to press further when there was a knock at the door, both their eyes shooting to the interruption.

Abby’s head appeared around the corner, edging the door open just enough. Her eyes lit up, “Hello, Raven.”

“Hey, Mrs G.”

Abby smiled warmly; she had long since learnt not to be surprised to find Raven unannounced in her daughter’s bed.

“You girls want anything while I’m out?” she asked, a yoga mat caught under her arm and a protein shaker filled with an earthy green liquid held in the opposite hand.

"Getting your Zen on, Mrs G?"

“Something like that,” Abby smiled.

“We’re good, Mom,” Clarke told her, her head propped on her hand. “Enjoy your workout.”

“Bye, girls.”

Once Abby had left, the door clicking shut, Clarke fixed Raven with that look again – she wasn’t getting out of this one.

Raven sighed, before her eyes narrow in slight confusion. “Where’s Lexa?” Raven quizzed, only just noticing her absence.

When Raven had been let it that morning, Lexa had been looking on sleepily from the top of the stairs. Her singlet was askew and her hair was falling out its usual braids. But she’d led them back to Clarke’s room, all three girls climbing into the king size bed, Clarke sandwiched in the middle.

“She left a few hours ago. She had a job this morning, took Aden with her,” Clarke explained, before smacking Raven with a spare cushion. “Quit stalling.”

“Asshole,” Raven grumbled. She held her breath for a long second, before letting the words rush past her lips. “I think I Netflix and Chilled with Octavia last night.”

Clarke looked somewhat startled, opening and closing her mouth. “Wait, like the kind you would with Jasper and Monty?” she questioned, sitting up. “Or the kind I did with Lexa last week?”

“The kind you di-wait.” Raven paused her confession, staring at her best friend in surprise. “Nice,” she praised, nodding in approval.

“Thank you,” Clarke chuckled.

“Yeah, the Lexa kind.”

“Raven,” Clarke chastised.

“I’d like to say it was all her,” Raven mumbled into her pillow, remorseful. “But I didn’t stop her either.”

“So wait, she-” Clarke gestured with two fingers. It was enough.

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” Clarke’s eyes widened.

“I know.”

“…wow.”

“Stops saying wow,” Raven groaned, burying her face again. “I’m not this girl.”

Raven could hear the quiet rustling of bed sheets, and feel the bed dip under Clarke’s weight.

“And what girl is that?” Clarke asked gently, having settled back against the headboard.

“The kind that ruins good relationships.”

Clarke sighed. “As much as it’s a two way street, Raven. Octavia made that choice. If she were truly happy, she would have made a different one.”

Raven kept her face buried. She was an asshole. It was official.

“So,” Clarke ventured, her tone making Raven look up. “Was she any good?”

“Are you kidding?” Raven mumbled, resting her chin on her folded arms. “It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.”

Clarke nodded to herself with a slight frown, “Go Octavia.”

“Not helping, Griffin.”

* * *

“Did I mention you don’t have to do this?”

“Only about seven times,” Bellamy chuckled, pulling his keys from the ignition. “And I told you, I don’t mind. I love Martha. You know that.”

“And therein lies the problem,” Raven laughed, hopping down onto the hot bitumen.

The Sunday heat was clinging to their skin and soaking into the back of their shirts.

Raven lead the way down the neat garden path. Everything about the single-storey faded brick house was home to her. The porch swing on the front lawn, the ornate doorbell, the red trim around the awnings. It was a small house. But it was homey and kept, and just smelled of family and safety. And other than Clarke and the Chev, was the only good part of Raven’s childhood.

She was 14 when the doctors had given her the news. When her leg brace and her disability became a permanent part of who she was, and her life changed forever. And her Aunt Martha had been there every step. Every appointment. Every heartbreak. The frustration. There she was.

It had taken two years before Raven had made the move permanent. It was a formality really. She was practically never at her parents’ house, dividing her time between Martha’s and the Griffins since freshman year, and Raven had never looked back.

 _“Tía?”_ Raven called, unlocking the front door with her spare key.

Bellamy held it open as they made their way into the living room, the smell of coffee and the distinct scent of homemade cooking drifting through the house.

“In the kitchen, Raven.”

The voice floated down the short hallway, Raven and Bellamy passing a bedroom door and the small bathroom before it opened out into a kitchen out the back. Raven’s aunt was a short woman. Her brown hair styled under her ears and her blouse pressed even though she never expects the company. It was part of her charm. She cooked too much food, and always had cold lemonade ready on the breakfast counter, and Raven adored her.

It had been longer than Raven would have liked since she’d visited. She usually checked-in once a week, school schedule permitting. But she’d been so caught up at the garage and with friends that she hadn’t had the chance to visit more than a handful of times since the end of semester.

Martha was sitting at her small dining table, a house and garden magazine open in front of her. Placing her coffee mug down, she got to her feet to greet them with a bright smile.

 _“Hola,_ Raven,” she said warmly. She kissed both of Raven’s cheeks, before pulling back. “Bellamy.”

He pulled her in for a tight hug, his height easily eclipsing hers. “Hey, Aunt Martha.”

“It’s nice to see you in my home again, Bellamy. You should visit more often.”

Bellamy grinned down at her. “How’s the love life?” he asked, a teasing light to his deep brown eyes. “Any men on the horizon?”

“Cheeky.” Martha touched his cheek, years of affection in the brush of her fingertips. “Speaking of, when are you two going to stop being so stubborn and get married already?”

 _“¡Tía, detente!”_ Raven exclaimed, her eyes wide, embarrassment colouring her cheeks – every damn time.

 _“¿Qué?”_ Martha voiced innocently to her niece, her hands up in surrender, like she didn't do this every time Bellamy visited. Her aunt had wanted them together ever since they were 16 – she had staying power, Raven would give her that.

“I’m not really sure I’m her type, Martha.” Bellamy shot Raven a kind look, and one that gave Raven pause and had her mouth catching on unspoken words.

_Okay. That was something._

_“¿Por qué no?”_ Martha blanched, stealing Raven’s attention. “You’re everyone’s type. Don’t you agree, Raven?”

Raven groaned, pulling away from the conversation to take a seat at the small dining table. She slumped in her chair – this was the kind of interaction she was hoping to avoid with Bellamy.

“Well, thank you,” he blushed, his hands finding his basketball shorts. “But I should get started. Lawn won’t mow itself.”

Bellamy departed with a soft smile, ducking out the sliding door. He put his headphones in as he left, Raven fiddling with the delicate lace coaster that sat in front of her.

“Not your type?” her aunt questioned, sitting back down at the table. “What is he talking about?”

“He’s just being Bellamy, _Tía_. Male bravado and all that,” Raven waved off, a nervous flutter in her stomach – she so didn’t want to have this conversation.

After she’d left Clarke’s house the day before, she was resolute to burying it all. To pretend that the Netflix incident had never happened, and that she hadn't fell even harder for Octavia because of it. But Martha was better at reading her than even Clarke. She was like a mother to her. After everything that had gone down with her parents, Martha was the one that took her in, stayed when things had gotten hard with her injury, and when her aunt’s little brother no longer bothered.

Martha was her home.

“You know you can tell me anything, Raven,” Martha implored, her voice warm and like a safety blanket. Nurturing in its tone. “I swore that to you when I took you in.”

“I know.”

“You’ve already told me you like girls,” she reasoned, with a slight lift of her shoulders. “So unless you’re pregnant, or into hard drugs. There’s not a lot more you can say that will shock this old girl.”

“I’m in love with his sister,” Raven blurted, her lips stumbling over each syllable.

_Well that just happened._

“Is it too early for tequila?”

“ _¡Marta!_ ,” Raven whined, hearing Bellamy start up the lawnmower outside. It revved to life, the harsh sound filling the small kitchen and cutting through her nerves at the truth that now hung in the air.

“Too early,” Martha tutted with a short nod.

Raven dropped her head to the table in defeat, feeling her aunt’s careful fingers curling through her hair. It was calming and simple. A notion she wished her life was in that moment.

Martha sighed lightly, “These things have a way of working themselves out, Raven.”

Raven didn’t lift her head from where it rested on her arms, mumbling against the white tablecloth. “Can’t they just hurry up work themselves out already then?”

“ _Ay_ ,” Martha sighed again. “If love was easy we’d all be doing it.”

“You’re doing it again,” Raven grumbled.

“Doing what?” Martha’s hand stilled in her hair, short nails scratching at her scalp.

“Giving advice without _actually_ giving advice.”

Raven felt the absence of fingers before a rolled up magazine whacked her over the back of the head. “Don’t be so ungrateful, _niña_.”

“Ah, good talk,” Raven chuckled, pushing back and getting to her feet. “Think I’ll go see if my future husband wants an ice-cold beverage.”

“Raven.”

Raven stopped at the sliding door, the mid-morning sun shining into the kitchen. “Yes, _Tía?”_

“If Octavia is who you’re meant to be with, the universe will find a way,” she murmured, her voice certain. “And if it doesn’t, then I’ll have some strong words for it, because you deserve all the happiness after what it’s taken from you.”

Raven’s fingers gripped the metal doorframe for support, “Thanks,  _Tía._ ”

Her throat had turned dry, her eyes stinging at her aunt’s words.

“See? I can give advice,” she smirked, settling back into the wooden dining chair. “Now go see if Bellamy wants some lemonade, will you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Martha went back to her magazine, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. “I always liked Octavia,” she pondered, thoughtful. “She was always the better Blake.”

Raven smiled widely, an overwhelming affection for her aunt bursting in her chest, before slipping out the back door and into the summer heat.

* * *

“Penny for your thoughts, Reyes?”

Bellamy took his eyes from the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the shift. It was hot out. Sweat clung to his shirt, Bellamy smelling of fresh cut grass and the musk of his deodorant. It mixed with the sea air as they speed along the beachfront.

Raven had been resting her elbow on the open window, just listening to the wind and the hum of the radio. “I think I’m all adviced out, to tell you the truth,” Raven muttered.

She wasn’t game enough to ask him about his earlier look, no matter how much it was playing on her mind – Raven knew what it meant. She’d seen it before, on Clarke the night they’d all met Lincoln.

“How about we don’t talk then?”

“Are you propositioning me, Blake?” Raven raised an eyebrow.

“And you wonder why Martha thinks you want me.” Bellamy shook his head, his dark curls falling in his eyes.

“Shut up.” Raven laughed despite herself and the thoughts that swirled around her; the ones of Octavia, and of Martha, and Bell.

She propped her good leg on the lip near the glove box, letting the breeze flowing through the open window cool her heated skin and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a few rounds of karting?” Bellamy suggested. “Own your ass on the track instead.”

Raven quirked her brow. “Care to wager on that?” she asked, her tone growing smug. “Squandering you Blakes out of your rent money is something of a hobby of mine.”

Bellamy grinned, shifting gears. But he paused, glancing at Raven. “What did my sister bet, anyways? That night we all met Lexa.”

Raven barked out a laugh at the memory. “Just that pool girl wouldn’t have abs of steel.”

“O’s a surfing instructor,” he stated, perplexed. “Why would she bet on that?”

“Honestly, Octavia can never back out of a challenge, no matter how useless the odds are for her.”

“It’s a Blake thing,” he shrugged.

“So how ‘bout it, Bell?” Raven grinned. “50 says I lap you.”

“You’re on, Reyes,” Bellamy said, turning off the beachfront and down a side street.

“Well this’ll be the easiest buck I ever made.”

They were both silent for a time. Raven fiddled with the radio, switching it over to something before the 1980s.

She found a station, humming along to the Eagles as she saw the first signs for the go-karting track come into view.

“Tackle the small stuff.”

Raven groaned. “What did I say about advice, Blake?”

“I can hear the gears turning from here, Rey,” Bellamy smiled. It was that smile that probably won over all his weekend conquests. “So just handle the small stuff, and the big ones won’t seem so bad. Like what you and O do on the roof.”

Raven’s chest fluttered. “You know about that?”

“It’s my roof.”

* * *

The bar looked different empty and in the light. More old aged. All mahogany and worn booths. Raven could picture old men smoking pipes in the corner and reading first edition Hemingway on the leather stools.

It had character.

“Knock, knock.”

“We’re closed,” Anya drawled without looking up, causing Raven to chuckle. She glanced up from the paperwork in her hands, a smirk working its way onto her lips. “Well, now we’re definitely closed.”

“You should probably invest in a locked door then,” Raven quipped, walking further into the empty bar. Anya was sitting at the end of it, stacks of financial statements piled in front of her, and a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose.

“Something tells me that locked doors don’t deter girls like you.”

“You might be right,” Raven simpered, dropping her gaze as she sat down on a barstool. Luna was behind the bar as well, nodding at Raven in greeting as she polished a set of wine glasses.

“So what brings you to this part of town, Reyes?” Anya asked, before rolling her eyes. “And don’t say the amazing view.”

Raven blushed, fiddling with her car keys, her hands resting on the countertop. “Lets just call it me getting my life together.”

Anya had been playing on her mind; among the countless other things that plagued her thoughts. They hadn’t left things awkward, but it all seemed so unfinished – though that could be accounted for it being a one-night stand. But with Lexa, it seemed Anya was going to be a part of Raven’s life for as long as she and Clarke were together. So it was logical.

“Luna?” Anya raised two fingers to the bartender, before looking at Raven in a silent question.

Raven shrugged, “I’d never say no to a free drink.”

Anya nodded once at Luna.

She put down the wine glass, tucking the dishtowel into her back pocket. “Coming right up.”

Luna pulled a bottle off the top shelf, pouring two neat whiskeys and placing them in front of her boss, before heading off down the bar again.

“So how’s tricks?” Raven nodded towards the collection of statements, taking a tiny sip of the warm rich alcohol.

“Took a hit with your friends the other night. But I do okay.” When Raven gave her a questioning look, Anya chuckled. “Who did you think was paying for your drinks all night?”

“Guessing it wasn’t Lexa?”

“You’d be guessing correctly,” Anya affirmed. “I’d say any time. But no.”

Raven smiled, nodding to herself. “So, are we good?”

“I can’t see why not,” Anya shrugged, sitting back and holding her whiskey gingerly. “We had our fun. No harm done. We’re friends.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been friends with a one-night stand before.”

“Well, I told you. I’m here,” Anya said, placing her glass down. “That doesn’t have to only mean in one way. And from what I hear you guys are kind of package deal.” She huffed out a laugh, “Someone should have warned me that my sister getting a girlfriend meant I’d inherit a whole flock of 20 somethings.”

“Yeah, sorry to be the bearer of bad news. But you’re kinda stuck with us now,” Raven sympathised. “Congrats.”

Both of them smirked, sipping their drinks. Raven licked her lips, “So friends?”

Raven was hesitant – it was rather unknown territory for her.

“I’d like to be your friend,” Luna piped up, cutting limes part way down the bar. She paused, brandishing her small peeling knife. “From what I heard the other night, being friends with you sounds like a whole lot of fun.”

“Luna,” Anya warned, setting her with a levelled gaze. “I think the girls’ bathroom is in need of more hand towels.”

“Just putting it out there.” Luna raised her hands in surrender – Raven liked this one.

Anya laughed softly as Luna moved off, “Friends sounds good. I can do friends.”

They finished the rest of their drink in silence, Raven nodding to herself, not really looking at Anya.

“Speaking of doing friends though, how goes it with Pocahontas?”

Raven groaned, resting her head on the polished mahogany counter, “You just had to, didn’t you?”

“Sorry,” Anya shrugged, sounding anything but. “Was too good to pass up.”

Raven chuckled into her arms, not answering.

“Aden wouldn’t shut up about her last week when he got home.” She only sounded mildly annoyed, but mostly endeared. “Think you’ve got some competition, Reyes.”

“I think I can take a 12 year old.”

“You’d be surprised,” Anya murmured, picking her paperwork back up. “He is his mother’s son after all.”

“I’ll be sure to sleep with one eye open then.”

That smirk was back on Anya’s lips. “I think you should just go for it. With Octavia. I mean, what do you have to lose?”

“You’d be surprised,” Raven recalled, pushing away her empty glass as she stood from the bar. “Thanks. For the drink, and the talk.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Anya smiled. It was soft, and reminded her of Lexa is some ways.

“Yeah. Please don’t be.”

“Luna.”

“Restocking the toilet paper,” Luna chirped. “Got it.”

As new friends go, Raven could've done worse.

* * *

It had been a slow day at the garage. There hadn’t been any flat tires or broken taillights pushed through the shop, or annoying customers plaguing the front counter. Fleetwood Mac played softly on the small stereo and Sinclair was out back, filling in paperwork in his office.

They were Raven’s favourite days.

The senior mechanic's shift had already ended. So it left Raven to work on the restorations that were a staple of the business, getting lost in her craft and in the tiny details. Watching a car transform into something beautiful. A work of art. And the fact that it was her hands that did it. It was something she was going to miss once she graduated.

She'd found herself behind the wheel of a Pontiac, rewiring the radio when Octavia knocked on the car door. Raven had looked up in shock, almost tearing out the wires she’d already carefully patched in.

“Hey,” Raven breathed, watching as Octavia opened the car door and sat down in the passenger seat.

Octavia smiled at her. Raven could see the nerves in her fingertips, and in the way she pressed her lips together. But she kept silent, Raven resting the half-wired radio gently on her lap. They hadn’t spoken since Raven had left the note, which was no surprise. She’d received a Snapchat from a surf lesson, but nothing beyond a few photos.

Raven could feel that energy, and could feel that Octavia wanted to say something. It was almost tangible. She had her eyes on her hands, fiddling with the silver ring that circled her thumb.

But after a while Raven broke the silence, unable to concentrate on her work with Octavia just sitting there.

“O?”

"I know," Octavia said in a sudden rush of words. Raven swallowed heavily, waiting for her to speak again.

"I don't know a lot about us. But I know you." Octavia looked up from her lap, Raven’s heart pounding rapidly in her chest. "And I know that I want you."

“Octavia.”

“And I know something happened with you and… _her_. I’m not an idiot,” she muttered, screwing her eyes shut. “I just wanted to tell you that I know, and that I don’t wanna know. What happened is your business.”

“O.”

“Just let me say this,” Octavia hushed. “Please?”

Raven figured that Octavia knew something had happened with Anya. She’d seen the look on her face when she’d left with Lincoln. She’d seen the quiet hurt, and the lingering stare as she stayed behind with the other four girls.

Raven kept silent, her hands on the radio in her lap, and her stomach hot with butterflies.

“What happened between us the other night,” Octavia began carefully, her voice raw. “I’ve never done anything like that before. And I know I shouldn’t have. That it was stupid and impulsive. But it made me realise that you’re what I want. And I know things are so screwed up right now and I don’t deserve your patience, or to ask you to wait for me,” she pressed on. “I know that I’ve probably already ruined everything. And I know that-”

Raven pushed forward and claimed her lips, not letting Octavia finish.

The kiss was tentative and innocent, Raven cupping her jaw and sucking softly on Octavia’s bottom lip. She tasted like summer. Like when morning rain hit hot asphalt, or the salty waves crashed against white sand. And it took everything in Raven to pull back; to separate her lips from her certain thing.

She kept her thumb caressing Octavia’s cheek, dark eyes searching green ones that flickered open and caught on her.

Octavia just stared, shocked. Her lips were parted and oh so perfect. And it wasn’t until the door to the back office clicked open that either took a breath.

They could hear Sinclair rummaging around in a tool box, the sound reverberating to the high ceilings and Octavia smiled, a laugh slipping through her parted lips.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked, hopeful. God, she was perfect.

“Yeah,” Raven breathed, stunned into place as Octavia hopped out and left through the open roller door.

* * *

Raven couldn’t sleep.

She swore she could still feel the tingling of her lips where two soft ones had been, pressed so perfectly against hers.

Raven was lying in bed that night. The faint clicking and cheering from Monty and Jasper floated beneath her bedroom door, both boys wearing headphones as they played Xbox down the hall.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Octavia. About the kiss and how soft it was, but oh so perfect. She’d thought about her first kiss with her since the night on the rooftop, both two gone to think about more than the spray of stars and the summer heat.

She’d thought about how it would feel, and how it would happen. But nothing, none of those thoughts prepared her for the real thing. For the sheer clarity it instilled.

The aching in her chest, had settled to a warm burning. It was content, and comfortable. And it felt a lot like a Thursday should.

**[12:23 a.m.] Rey Reyes: You were right..**

******[12:25 a.m.] Griffin: Always, but what about?** ** **

****[12:26 a.m.] Rey Reyes: I'm so screwed** **

* * *

Raven had her eyes closed against the harsh sunlight, listening to _Peace Train_ play lightly on the sound system and her friends swimming in the pool. It was peaceful, the cawing of the water birds and the waves crashing on the sand mixing with their laughter.

Clarke and Octavia were lounging in the deep end, as Lexa tried vainly to clean the surface around them. Raven knew they were doing it just to annoy her, taking enjoyment out of her pouted lips and her look of exasperation – Raven approved.

"I can't clean it if you're in it," Lexa huffed, her hands gripping the pole, looking anything but amused.

“You could always just join us, babe,” Clarke purred, looking up at her girlfriend. “Water’s nice and wet.”

Raven saw Lexa take in a strained breath, “I think I’d have to wait for the two girls to leave for that.”

“Okay, I’m out,” Octavia surrendered, pulling herself onto the hot pavers.

“You two are unbelievable,” Raven chuckled, sitting up on her deckchair. Lexa rested her weight on the metal net, smirking down at Clarke.

Raven loved her friends – they were all horny shits, but she loved them all the same.

Octavia grabbed a towel from the poolside cabinet, drying herself before wrapping it around her hips.

Raven was readying herself to stand when Lexa threw Octavia a set of keys, Octavia catching them easily. “What’s this?”

“I’ve seen you eyeing it for weeks,” Lexa stated simply.

“Are you serious?” Octavia blanched in disbelief, looking down at the set of motorcycle keys and then to Raven.

“You have your license, don’t you?” Octavia nodded slowly, still in shock. “Just fill up the tank before you come back.”

“I don’t need to be told twice.”

Octavia hurried off to get changed, Raven backing away after her. “I’ll message you to say we’re coming back,” Raven grinned, throwing Clarke a knowing look. “Make sure we’re not wandering in on your pool cherry mid-pop.”

Clarke was still watching Lexa, that smirk lighting her features. Raven knew her response before the words were even out.

“Too late.”

“Oh, come on,” Octavia groaned from the kitchen, her words echoing. “I was just in that pool.”

"Good thing she has a pool boy," Lexa chuckled and continued to scoop up the leaves.

Clarke paddled backwards lazily, her eyes on Lexa, “Change the music on your way out, would you.”

“What?” Raven jeered, grabbing her shoes from the back door. “Can’t nut to Cat Stevens?”

Raven dodged the beach ball Clarke had just thrown, and retreated back inside. She quickly switched the playlist back to something more Clarke’s pace and grabbed her wallet and phone, choosing to wait for Octavia by Lexa’s bike.

Raven wasn’t sure where they were going. She held tight to Octavia’s waist, pressing her cheek against her back. Ever since they’d both arrived at Clarke’s house, that wondrous warmth hadn’t ceased. It replaced the previous ache, and the hesitation. The looks they shared were still shy, but there was a promise in those dark green eyes. And it made Raven pull Octavia tighter against her chest, as she leant into each turn.

They rode further up the coast, along the cliffs. The wind felt nice against Raven’s skin, brushing her bare legs and catching in her hair. She loved the sun and the view, and the feeling of Octavia so close. She smelled of chlorine and the sweetness of her perfume, Raven’s head swimming.

She didn't want to think about tomorrow, or even later that day. She didn't want to think about what would meet them after they parted, or that this wasn't real. Raven was okay with living a dream for just a few hours. For just a moment it was the two of them again. And for just a moment, Raven thought it really could be.

She knew it wasn’t a date. That this was just them hanging out. But it felt like one. And she couldn’t shake that feeling, even as they started to slow.

“Where are we, exactly?” Raven questioned.

Octavia had pulled the bike into a small alcove on the side of the cliffs, kicking the bike stand down into the rough gravel.

“Just somewhere I found the other day,” Octavia smiled, taking off her helmet. “See if there’s a blanket in one of the satchels.”

Raven pulled off her own helmet, before rummaging in the saddlebags. “Is this where you whack me?”

She found a thick blanket, pulling it out of one of the bags. It was red and grey, and soft, Raven putting it under her arm as she set off after Octavia down a small path near the jagged cliff’s edge.

“I just wanted you to myself.”

It was said gently, Octavia glancing back at Raven. And it had Raven's breath catching high in her throat.

She followed Octavia to a spot overlooking the ocean, and Raven was struck by just how beautiful her home was. The cliffs were deserted, save for a few sea birds nesting further up on the rock face.

It was amazing.

“How did you find this place?” Raven asked, laying the blanket down on the smooth rock.

“I came here the other day…to clear my head,” Octavia told her, sitting down on the blanket next to Raven. “I just got in my car and kept driving until I wound up here.”

“I can see how this place could clear your head,” Raven mused, her eyes on the horizon and the setting sun. It glinted off the turning ocean, the sound of the waves hitting the base of the cliffs filling the air.

Octavia nodded to herself, sitting back on her hands. “I got here, and I was...confused. And I thought, not really about what I should or _who_ I should, but about you, and how much you'd love it here.” She turned to look at Raven, biting her bottom lip. “That I wanted to share this place with you."

Octavia looked down at Raven’s lips, those green eyes making her heart jump in her chest. 

“O.”

Octavia paused, an inch from Raven’s lips. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” It was the last shred of Raven’s fear, of losing her, of coming out of this alone. But she was on the edge of giving in, waiting to fall, and wanting it all the same.

Octavia shifted even closer, whispering against Raven's lips, “I think we already have.”

She closed the gap, kissing Raven softly at first, before cupping the back of her neck and deepening it.

And Raven let go.

She fell.

And she found in that moment, in those lips and the soft touch of fingertips, that Octavia wasn’t just her certain thing. She was her Thursday too.


End file.
